


So Far, So Good

by exploding_stardust



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Concert AU, Fluff, M/M, Pierced!Jean, and Tattooed!Marco, featuring:, jeanmarco, music festival AU, started off as a poppunk AU but it fizzed into this, tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exploding_stardust/pseuds/exploding_stardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its Day 3 of the Titans of Summer Music Festival 2014 and fate has brought our two favorite dorks together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Titans of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> This thing started as a PopPunk!AU but fizzled into a MusicFestival!AU that I hope you guys like.
> 
> I doubt I did a good job explaining Marco's tattoo so the reference is [here](http://tattoo-ideas.us/black-tree-sleeve/). 
> 
> (There are 2 shifts in POV but they should be obvious enough)
> 
> if you want a mix, [listen here](http://8tracks.com/exploding_stardust/titans-of-summer) (the bands alluded to here are included)
> 
> This is my first SnK fic and I hope I did okay but feel free to [yell at me](http://rubble-and-stardust.tumblr.com) if i suck really bad at this.

In Jean's opinion, the last day of a music festival was usually the worst. 

Not because the acts were bad or anything, but because it was _the last day of the festival._ And if he was being honest, the Titans of Summer Music Fest 2014 was one of the best he had been to. It was way smaller than Warped Tour, with only one stage and more unknown bands but that usually meant a more chill vibe, the bouncers weren't breathing down your neck and you didn't have to sell your soul in exchange for a bottle of water (mostly because the attendants turned a blind eye to Gatorade and water bottles and paid strict attention to beer and hard liquor.)

Wrangling Connie and Sasha through the crowd wasn't an easy task, and wrangling their raging appetites wasn't going to be a cake walk either, so Jean came fully stocked on Day 3. Sandwiches, assorted chips, and what felt like a full gallon of Gatorade were stuffed into his old Jansport. Sasha's bag was equally loaded with snacks and half a case of water bottles. 

He found himself shuffled around in the crowd, people rushing about and moving to the flow of the monstrous mass that crowded the front of the stage, easily the size of an Olympic sized pool. They managed to stick together, employing their long honed concert technique of planting their feet and not moving, no matter how rude you felt. 

"These guys are awesome!" Sasha yelled, jumping in place. She kept her elbows in, close to her sides, and her eyes open for anyone less considerate with their appendages. 

"Woooooohooooo" Connie was right next to her, and Jean didn't miss the way he also kept an eye out for anyone not considerate of Sasha. Jean had never felt the jealousy he often heard from others when a new friend joined the group. Hell, he and Sasha might've been best friends since kindergarten but when Connie showed up 6 years later, it felt like they had been friends for ages before. And if the way Connie looked at Sasha was any indicator and the way Sasha leaned more and more into his casual touches, Jean might be feeling a left out come the fall. He didn't mind it in the least, if it made those two happy.

_'Well, fuck.'_

Just a few feet away, the lurching of the crowd was getting more and more intense. And violent. Moshing was fun for some and those who took part were usually considerate of those that didn't want to accidentally get hit in the face by a thrashing body. 

Jean tapped Connie's shoulder, motioning towards the pit that was steadily opening up, only the participants sticking around. He nodded in understanding as he relayed the message to Sasha. They were close to the action and were ready and willing to be on the lookout for whoever got accidentally shoved into the mosh.

Keeping his eyes on the perimeter of the circle, Jean caught a glimpse of a very tall, very cute guy. Between the jumping bodies, he could make out a long, toned, seriously tattooed arm pumping a fist into the air to the beat of the 808 drum. His dark hair was sweaty and unruly and Jean could see him roaring along with the crowd. 

Inside the mosh, he could only make out a couple of faces. A tall guy, way taller than the cutie in the muscle shirt, was thrashing almost tamely with a thick layer of sweat covering his skin and soaking his tank top in large patches. There where two blondes who were much more enthusiastic, one with a pair of serious mutton chop sideburns and the other almost as tall as Sweaty. He shirtless, showing off his very chiseled body. He caught two girls in there too. The redhead was just as tame as Sweaty and mostly gyrating with a dark haired guy near the edge. 

The girl with the pigtails though, she was holding her own, smashing into anyone who crossed her path and taking hits as good as she dished them. She bashed into another kid who looked oddly familiar to Jean. The dark hair wasn't anything special but when he caught sight of his eyes and saw the focused intensity with which he stared down everyone who rammed into him, Jean knew. He fucking _knew_.

"Oh my god, fucking Jaeger is here."

Connie and Sasha turned to the mosh pit and promptly exploded into laughter.

Jean remembered the last time he had seen Eren, it had been the last day of middle school and Jean had been so happy he was never seeing his face again, he had been on his best behavior the entire graduation day and going away party. Of course, it had pissed Eren off that Jean was acting weird so they ended up grappling on the floor, each attempting to pin the other with less than stellar success.

As usual, Connie and Sasha had pulled him off of Eren, who was being led away by the gorgeous Mikasa and everyone had gone home, glad they wouldn't have to do that for at least another four years. Jean hadn't spoken to Armin in years, losing touch sometime during sophomore year.

Jean swore to himself he was not going to even make eye contact. Even if Jaeger caught his eye, he was going to try his damnedest to pretend he didn't recognize him.

_'Because today is the last day of the festival and no one is going to fuck it up for me.'_

Jean decided to entertain himself with checking out the cute guy when he noticed he wasn't where Jean had last spotted him. At first, Jean dismissed it as the other boy going to the bathroom or to the concessions or getting out for some air. Normal concert behavior in his book.  But he noticed a ripple at the edge of the mosh pit and the very same guy plummeted into the ring. He immediately started backing up towards the edge, avoiding the people in the circle but the crowd as a whole decided it was time to ripple completely, waves of arms and legs jostling and not giving the poor guy room to leave.

The mosh pit was less definite now and Jean had been jostled right to the edge of the ring. He saw the kid go down as another ripple went through the crowd and didn't see him stand up. 

He moved, all his thoughts on getting the guy out of there.

Slamming in, he tried to keep his body moving, rolling with the hits and making his way to the other edge. His heavy bag was throwing his balance off and it was proving more difficult than ever to help the poor guy out. At one point he came face to face with Jaeger, and try as he might to keep a blank face and keep going, he couldn't help the deepening of his scowl as they met head on. Jean would've stayed and maybe thrown a couple of hits at him for old times sake but he did't know if the kid was still down. Or if he could even get up. 

Rolling around the shirtless guy and the sweaty beanpole, Jean found him crouched low with a hand held up to his right eye.

"Hey!" Jean yelled, practically in his ear, "C'mon!"

Gabbing the guy's arm, he pulled him out of the pit, shoving people out of his way with his shoulder, not caring if he was a little rough. 

They made it to the edge of the crowd, right by one of the food truck lines near the festival limits. Jean turned around, making sure the guy had come through in one piece.

"Hey, are you okay?" He grabbed a hold of the guy's upper arms, trying to see the damage to his face. Freckles covered every inch of him, darker flecks dusting his cheeks and forearms. Jean assumed there had been freckles where there was probably the coolest blackout sleeve he had ever seen. It looked like geometric trees, but inverted so the blackout was actually the background, the freckled trees untouched. 

The guy took a few deep breaths and looked at Jean, a smile playing on his lips. "I think I'm fine. Just got elbowed in the eye."

Removing his hand, he blinked hard, his right eye squinting slightly. He looked down, smile brightening, "Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Its cool." Jean leaned up, taking his face in his hands and moving it from side to side, inspecting the eye for any dirt or debris that might irritate it. To say that he had experience in getting people out of mosh pits and getting himself hurt in them was an understatement. 

He barely registered that his face was really close to the taller boy's, standing on tip toe to get a good look, until he heard someone clearing their throat behind him. 

Jean promptly blushed and let go of the boys face, which was also a little redder than it had been since they got out of the pit. A tall freckled girl was standing there, her flannel clad arm hung lazily around a short blonde's shoulders. 

The shorter girl promptly rushed forward, "Are you okay, Marco?" She pulled out a water bottle from her side bag and offered it to him.

"I'm fine, Historia. Thank you." He raised the bottle to her in a mock toast before taking several long gulps. 

"I feel like I should be thanking you." Historia said to Jean, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Jean couldn't help but notice how cute she was in her sunflower print dress. 

"Its no problem." He said, unable to look away from her pretty blue eyes. The guy, Marco, nudged him with the bottle. He gave a smile in thanks and finished draining it. 

When he finished, he extended a hand to Marco, "Jean."

Marco took it, shaking it lightly, "Marco."

The tall girl huffed a bit, "Now that we all know each other i can get right to it. Marco," her gaze was hard, as was the finger she jammed at Marco's chest. "That was really fucking dumb."

"You're telling me." He was gently touching the area around his eye, wincing. 

"That's going to be tender tomorrow." Jean said, though he thought a black eye wouldn't look too bad on him. He was only a few inches shorter than Marco, his eyes level with his adorable button nose.

"Oh," his phone was vibrating violently in his back pocket. He yanked it out and swiped to answer it, taking a step away in an attempt at privacy.

It was Connie asking him where he was. Jean let him know hew as by the food trucks at the same entrance they used to get in and as he clicked to end the call, he caught the back end of what the others were talking about.

"- you had Historia nervous, bro." The tall girl was chewing Marco out for going to the mosh pit. "If you want to mosh, learn to take a hit."

"Ymir, stop making him feel worse. That's not very punk of you." Historia must have been at least a foot shorter than Ymir, but Jean thought she could hold her own against 20 foot giants should it ever be necessary. The girl looked fierce.

"Yeah, Ymir." Marco said, shifting his weight to one leg and sticking the other out, looking very much like the exasperated Historia. "That's not very punk of you."

_'So much sass for a guy who was nearly knocked out by a single elbow.'_

"Was it that big ass blonde guy?" Jean asked. There's were only two moshers tall enough to clock Marco in the eye.

"Him or the sweaty guy, I don't know." He dropped back into a more relaxed stance looking intently at Jean, though it may have been the bright sunlight making him squint like that. 

"Wait, a bigass blonde frat boy? Like, goes to the gym every day, can dead lift twice his weight, big?" Ymir asked.

Jean and Marco nod their heads, grinning when they caught their synchronization.

"That was probably Reiner. And the sweaty guy was probably Bertl." Historia said, looking a little worried. "They can go a it too hard sometimes."

"Annie's probably here to. I met 'em in -"  Ymir was interrupted by Sasha and Connie barreling out of the throng, flushed and a little breathless.

"Jean! Where did you go?" Sasha asked, trying to steady her breathing.

Jean pointed to Marco with his thumb, "Had to help the big guy here out of the mosh pit. He got bumped in by the crowd."

Sasha pushed her sunglasses into her hair and Jean could have sworn her eyes glinted as she took in the big freckled guy. She didn't say anything about him though, turning to Historia and striking up a conversation over the classes they were taking in the fall. 

"Sasha met Historia at orientation for Saint Sina U earlier in the summer." Connie confided, turning to look at Marco's eye better. "Looks like a clean hit. Does it burn or itch?"

"No, just sensitive." Marco put on a pair of green Ray Bans he pulled from the front pocket of his jeans. "This is a little better."

"Lets go back in. The set's almost over!" Sasha called, already moving back in, Connie quick to catch up. 

"Lets go." Historia murmured to Ymir, grabbing her hand. To Sasha she called, "Wait up Sasha! Don't go to close to the mosh pit!"

Jean looked at Marco. "You sure you're good?"

He didn't want him going back in if he wasn't going to have a good time. If he was being honest, Jean's as starting to get a little claustrophobic with the bodies constantly pressing up to him.

Marco seemed a bit uneasy, but apparently not enough to stay out of the crowd, "I'm good. Let's go in and when the set ends, I'll let you know if I'm still feeling okay."

When he flashed a bright smile, Jean couldn't ignore the way his stomach flip-flopped.

Jean barely managed to nod, motioning for Marco to go in first. Because he was bigger. Not to check out his ass.

Marco led the way in, politely asking people to move, squeezing through when they didn't hear or just didn't want to move and apologizing profusely. 

Jean was already loosing sight of Ymir when he decided he needed to stop pussyfooting around it. Stopping Marco, he maneuvered his way around him and grabbed his hand, setting off. He was significantly less polite but they caught up to the others much faster than they would have with Marco in the lead.

Jean hoped Marco didn't notice his red face and clammy hands. Of the way his heart was beating just a little too fast.

 

* * *

_  
'God he's really cute when he'blushes.'_  

The sun was especially bright and even with his sunglasses and Marco found himself squinting his right eye nearly shut.

Truth be told, he was still embarrassed for falling into the mush pit earlier. He usually had great balance and could slide and roll with ease. College baseball would do that to you. He guessed it was due to dehydration and the crowd working against him. 

Thankfully Jean had come in, thrashing to his rescue, and literally pulled him up and out of the chaos. His eye still ached a bit and he hoped it wouldn't bruise. He could see his mother now, swinging a bag of peas at him and rattling on about concussions.

Following Jean through the crowd wasn't too hard, unable to lose sight of the blonde shock of hair sticking out in sweaty tufts. Jean's warm hand in his also helped. 

When they reached their friends, Jean let go and Marco was a little disappointed. 

_'You just met the guy for Christ sake. Get it together, Bodt.'_

Sasha and Historia were still talking about the upcoming semester and what professors they got.

"You guys go to Saint Sina?" Marco asked, hoping they hadn't crossed paths at one point and he simply forgot. 

"Jean, Sash, and I are gonna be incoming freshman with Historia." Connie said, rummaging through Sasha's backpack. She had to squat down for him to get a good angle.

"You going to there too?" Jean asked him, taking a bottle of water out of Connie's hands, forcing him to go back to digging for his own.

Marco pointed at himself and then at Ymir, "I'm a chem major. Ymir's a bio major. We're going to be sophomores next semester." Jean handed him the half full bottle of water. "Thanks. Hey, did you get that shirt at the merch able yesterday?"

Jean looked down at the cobra design on his shirt and smiled, "Yeah. They're set was fucking insane!"

"Dude, I've been meaning to tell you." he continued, leaning close so they could hear each other over the crowd without yelling. "That is one badass sleeve."

"Oh, thanks," Marcos said, turning over his arm as if just noticing it was covered in black ink. "I saved up for months from my TA job to get it."

"Can I?" Jean asked and Marco offered his arm as an answer.

Jean's hands were gentle as he twisted his arm this way and that, softly running his fingers over the inked skin. Marco hoped he couldn't feel the goosebumps erupting from the soft touch and started drinking in an effort to appear nonchalant.

"Did you have to wait until you were out of the house?" Jean asked, smirking as he focused his attention on Marco's shoulder where the design dithered out.

"My mom would freak. It's harder now that I'm back home. I honestly think my dad knows." Marco smiled at the memory of that very morning, when he left the house in a hoodie, his mom muttering about getting hot flashes just looking at him and his dad just placidly handing him some cash for gas. "He's always asking me why I'm wearing long sleeves all the time and then Mom starts conplaining I'll get heat stroke.

Marco didn't think his mother would actually kill him but he didn't want to upset her while he was at home. He considered letting a picture leak onto Facebook near the beginning of the coming semester, giving her time to adjust and ready her lecture come Christmas.

"I don't think my parents would mind. They'd probably insist on matching ones." Jean said, letting go and playing with the tiny silver hoop near the top of his ear. "We all got our cartilage pierced when I graduated high school. We have the same earring and everything."

"You guys are close?" Marco had a good relationship with his parents. They hadn't even been surprised when he told them he wasn't attracted just girls or even just boys during the Thanksgiving holiday. He had to explain was pansexual but it hadn't been a life altering cosmic shift with them. Dad, ever the paramedic, reminded him about venereal diseases, Marie asked to be excused due to loss of appetite at the mention of _venereal diseases_ during dinner, and Mom made him promise he at least introduce them to whomever he was dating, should it become serious.

"You spend so much time at the university, we need updates!" she had said, flailing her arms dramatically.

But to get matching piercings or even matching tattoos was out of the question. Well, maybe Marie would go along with it. 

"Yeah." Jean said, a small frown ghosting his features for a second before returning to the usual smirk. "I'm an only child and the favorite by default." 

"You're a momma's boy, aren't you?" Marco joked, playfully elbowing Jean's arm.

Jean's grin widened, "Oh, you have no idea." 

He looked like he was going to elaborate when the crowd started going wild. The next band was on stage: a really pretty girl with bangs that nearly covered her eyes and a guy with a sick letterman jacket already wailing away on his guitar.

Sasha and Historia added their very high pitched yells to the crowd, apparently familiar with the duo. Everyone was clapping their hands and jumping around, the set looking to be high octane and noisy.

The songs were a blur and Marco swore it wasn't because his eyes were constantly drawn to Jean. Neither of them knew any of the lyrics, except for the one song they recognized from a TV commercial, but it didn't stop them from jumping along with the crowd. Marco stuck to Jean for the most part, the crowd separating them from the others before shifting again so they were right back where they started.

During a particularly exceptional guitar solo, Marco caught Jean with the most particular look on his face. Head turned up slightly, a small smile on his lips, and eyes closed, looking every bit at peace with the world. Marco knew the feeling. It was when you could feel the bass reverberating in your chest, your heart beating a bit too hard and a bit too fast, the heat of the crowd on your skin, the music pummeling at your very soul. Unforgiving. Pure bliss.

The band finished its performance a couple of songs later, leaving Marco's ears ringing slightly at the sudden silence. 

Jean caught his eye, looking a little green. "Hey, you want to go for some air?"

Marco nodded, following in the wake Jean created in the crowd. He almost lost Jean at one point, moving swiftly through the crowd like a fish through open water.

_'He really wants to get out'_

When they reached the fresh air, Jean look a big lungful, looking much better than he had before.

"Sorry about that." He huffed, stretching his arms out. "It was getting really stuffy in there."

"I get it." Marco assured him, and he did. "Too long in a crowd and you start feeling like you don't have enough spade to breathe. "

"Jeeaaaan!" Connie whined. Sasha and Connie had apparently followed them out, their faces bright red from jumping around in the heat. "You really need to start telling us when you want to disappear with Marco here." Connie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I mean, not that we can blame him." Sasha said, putting and arm around Marco. He nearly tripped over his checkerboard vans as Sasha had to practically jump to put her arm around his shoulders. "You're a cutie, Marco."

Blushing, Jean groaned into his hands, obviously embarrassed. Marco could feel himself blush too. 

Connie mimed Sasha, putting his arm around Jean's shoulder. "You going to the lawn?"

Jean took his head out of his hands, "Yeah." He looked up at Marco, "Want to come with?" 

"Yeah sure, let me text Ymir."

 

 **_To: Ymir  
_** **_goin 2 the lawn w jean txt me if anythng_ **

 

Her response was nearly instantaneous.

 

 **From: Ymir  
** **Get it Marco >;p**

 

Quickly shoving his phone into his pocket before anyone could see the smiley, "Lead the way."

He caught Connie mumble rather suggestively, "You sure you guys don't want to hold hands?" But Sasha elbowed him in the ribs. Bless her.

Looking over to Jean, Marco noticed his ears were tinged pink and Jean reached up to play with the bar across his ear nervously, probably trying to cover it from view.

Picking across the already settled groups on the lawn, they hiked up the slight hill to an empty space. They had caught sight of Ymir and Historia a few yards back sitting with another blonde girl with an intense gaze and a ton of spikes on her denim vest.

Dumping their stuff on the ground, Sasha and Connie waved a quick goodbye, Sasha calling a "Don't eat all the food!" over her shoulder, the next act about to start. 

They sat next to each other, Jean facing the stage and probably keeping an eye on where he believed Sasha and Connie were at. Marco hoped Ymir and Historia were still with them, partly so he could find them later but also because he thought they had been getting along well so far and having a large group of friends would be nice. 

Turning his back on the crowd, Marco people watched for a bit. Everyone was much more low key here, spotting a a bunch of younger kids with their moms and a couple of senior citizens that looked like they had been partying to much harder stuff for over 50 years.

If he was being honest, this was also a better angle for looking at Jean. Sure, he had his sunglasses and his peripheral vision was excellent but tilt your head at the right angle and Marco had the perfect view of a very attractive, if not perpetually grumpy looking, Jean. That lip piercing was particularly enticing.

_'I wonder what that ring would feel like pressed against my -'_

"Don't you want to watch the show?" Jean asked, rummaging through Sasha's backpack, presumably on the search for snacks. He pulled out a Gatorade and offered it to Marco.

"Nah, I'm good." Marco said, replying to both questions. Looking off into the distance and going for his coolest 'Cool Guy' impersonation, he added, "Music isn't so much a visual art as immersive. You don't have to see the show to enjoy the music." 

"Wow, so pretentious." Jean said, smirking as he uncapped the Gatorade and took a long pull. 

"Much cool.'"Marco retorted, and was now slightly conflicted with the seating arrangements as Jean proceeded to spit out the Gatorade entering his mouth and cough violently as some when down the wrong way.

Laughing unabashedly, Marco leaned forward and started thumping Jean's back in an effort to help him out.

"You. Fucking. Suck." Jean gasped when he got all the Gatorade out of his lungs. His white shirt was now speckled with orange.

_'Hell yeah I do.'_

Marco thanked all the gods the festival was alcohol free or he might've actually said that out loud.

Jean took a small sip, watching Marco warily as if expecting a sneak attack. He added a small "Sorry" as he wiped at Marco's arm, leaving the hair a little sticky from where the offending Gatorade had sprayed.

The spot Jean had rubbed felt much hotter than the rest of his body. Marco barely mumbled an "It's okay" before looking away, hoping his face didn't follow suit.

Time felt murky to Marco. A simultaneous blurring rush and sleepy haze. Talking with Jean was one of the easiest things he'd ever had to do and he felt like they had met long before that day. Their conversation was easy and their silences were comfortable. Enjoying each other's company under the warm sun. 

After a few songs, Connie and Sasha appeared, carefully dodging the other people on the lawn to get to them. Sasha hadn't even finishing plopping down when she shoved her hands into Jean's backpack, pulling it towards her and producing a bagel sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil. Her hair was coming out of its messy bun and sticking to her sweaty neck and her eyes looked a little crazed.

She tossed another bagel sandwich to Connie, who quickly unwrapped the top half and took a bite, letting out a groan of appreciation, "Christ Jean, your sandwiches are from the Almighty himself."

Sasha was digging into her sandwich with gusto, the shiny material casting bright spots onto her face. "You should give up that silly dream of the richest financial accountant on Wall Street and become my personal chef" she said, between bites. Marco would've thought she hadn't eaten in days if he hadn't seen her down an entire bag of kettle corn not an hour earlier.

Jean leaned back on his elbows and said wryly, "Something tells me it wouldn't pay as good."

"Seriously, though." Connie pushed, taking another slow bite. Sasha had already finished hers and was starting to eye Connie's like it was the last bagel sandwich left on Earth. "Im so glad I'm rooming with you. At least I won't go hungry."

"And here I thought you loved me for my personality."

They all laughed at that one, even Marco.

"Are you really that good of a cook?" he asked.

"See for yourself/" Connie was handing him the bottom half of the sandwich. Apparently neither of them cared about germs. Marco took a small bite and looked over at Jean with wide eyes.

"Dude. This is freaking delicious." He was pleased when Jean's face turned a pleasant shade of pink, ducking his head, hand playing with the ring in his lip. 

'It's nothing special, really." He was still acting adorably modest as he pulled out a tin of thin potato sticks from his backpack. "Whole wheat bagel, some mayo and mustard, ham and cheese obviously. I added the tomatoes on a whim, to be honest. Um, try it with these."

He grabbed the bagel and sprinkled a small lump of crunchy potato sticks between the bread and cheese. Marco took another bite and nearly moaned. 

'Seriously, please become _my_  personal chef." Marco handed it back to Connie, who took a tentative bite and actually moaned.

"Goddamn, bro. Can I marry you?" Was his response, picking up his pace. Marco heard the crowd getting louder, the next act probably coming out soon.

"Nah, dude. Our kids would be ugly."

"C'mon Cons! The next act is starting!" And with that, Sasha swiped the tin of potato sticks from Jean and raced down the slope, dragging Connie behind her. Marco saw them nearly topple into two huge guys but narrowly missed them. That monster was definitely Bertl and the boisterous laughter could only belong to that guy Reiner. They went over to where a little blonde girl was waving them over. It was the same girl who had been taking with Ymir and Historia, earlier.

"I like your friends." Marco said, turning to look at Jean. He had pulled out two sandwiches, regular bread this time, and was stuffing them with Lays. 

"They're you're friends too, now. Once you've shared food, you're part of the pack." Handing one to Marco he sighed a bit, "They can be a little much sometimes. But I've known Sasha since kindergarten and Connie since 3rd middle school so it comes with the territory."

"You all grew up together?"

"I'm from Trost. Sasha's from Dauper, which is still within the Trost city limits but is so far out its pretty much a ciity all on its own. She moved closer to the downtown with her dad after her parents split. Connie moved from Ragako before starting middle school with us. Shit, gimme a sec."

Marco took a bite of the almost forgotten sandwich and was glad he did because his immediate thought was  _'Holy Jesus Christ this is so good.'_

Jean pulled out his cellphone, unlocking it with a quick swipe. He shoved his glasses up into his hair to see better and stared at his phone for a few seconds before he burst into laughter, cradling his sandwich against his chest to avoid dropping it onto the grass. 

"I wanna know!" Marco knew he sounded a little petulant. He had only just realized that there was a definitely possibility that Jean had just received a funny text or something from his  significant other and had a brief moment of line-green jealousy.

Scooting closer, laughing and teary eyed, Jean pressed play on the video encompassing the screen. They watched as a middle aged blonde woman sitting on a couch began playing a ukulele and the cutest little corgi started pressing up against the hand strumming, obviously wanting her to stop to scratch his back, which she did. Laughing as she started playing again, the dog snuffled its nose under her hand, effectively putting himself between the strings and her fingers, managing to get her to scratch its head. 

"That's so cute!" He'd always wanted a dog but his Mom was allergic to any kind of animal hair. Fish were a pretty lame substitute.

"I know, right?" Jean scooted back, a little pink in the cheeks as he took a bite of his sandwich. 

"Is that your dog?" The woman had an elongated face and wondered if she might be his mom.

"Yesh." Jean said through a mouthful of ham and cheese, looking away before continuing. "My moms gave him to me when I turned 16."

Marco picked up on the plural in that statement. 

_'Some people have two moms. Whatever.'_

'Do they both play?' He asked, keeping his eyes on Jean.

He looked back at Marco, a small smile of his face "No, just Mom. Maman is tone def but that doesn't stop her from singing in the car. Really loudly."

Marco laughed, "My mom does the same thing!" Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he grabs the left over foil from his and Jean's vicinity and stuffs them into the empty Gatorade bottle.

"Oh, so she sang broadway show tunes when she went to drop you off at middle school little league soccer?" He challenged, eyebrow raised.

Marco raised his sunglasses, narrowing his eyes. "Disney duets. Both parts. To this day."

There was a moment of dead silence before Jean broke out in raucous laughter "I can't. Oh my god, I just imagine a very feminine you singing in the car to Love is an Open Door and-" the rest is drowned out by a new wave of giggles.

Marco pulled out his phone. Making quick work off his photo app and coming up with a recent picture of the Bodt clan. It had been the last day to move out from the dorms, his family came by to load all his crap into the car for the summer at home. They went to dinner at the local pizzeria and his mom had insisted the waitress take their picture.

"Dad doesn't really mind letting her take both parts, I think it reminds him of when they were younger. Marie thinks its hilarious." Marco doesn't mind it, usually teaming up with Marie to decide which songs to hint at on long car rides.

"Is Marie your sister?" Jean asks, still looking intently at the picture

Marco nods "She's my kid sister. She's starting high school now, actually." 

"If she's anything like you, she's going to have boys fawning over her from day one."

Marco's eyes widened, as did his smile, when Jean's face seemed to glow from how red it became. Even his ears were red.

_'Why, Jean. Tell me how you really feel?'_

"Thanks man." Was all he responded with, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "Shes a spitfire though. She's made up of ten times more sass than I am. I feel like it'll be tricky for her."

Most days, he knew Marie could handle herself and most things that came her way. But one thing he knew for certain was that sometimes things could get to be too much too fast and he wouldn't be around to help her as much as he wanted to be.

"Hey, she'll be fine." He looked over at Jean, and was a bit taken aback at how fierce the other boy was looking at him. "You turned out pretty great and I'd bet money there will be people who genuinely care for her, no matter how much sass she dishes out." 

Marco didn't want to admit how intensely those words affected him. He felt fuzzy of all things and his stomach was doing cartwheels and all he wanted to do was find out what that ring would feel like against a his lips. 

"Aw, you think I'm great?" If Marco was good at anything, it was diffusing tension. He waved his hand at Jean in an 'oh, stop it' gesture, covering his face with his other hand, feigning embarrassment.

"You are such a pain!" Jean laughed at Marco's dramatics, shoving him gently with his shoulder. 

They relaxed into a comfortable silence as the current band announced they would be playing their last song.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey Marco." Jean asked. 

The sun had set a few hours before and if Jean was correct, the last band was playing now. It sounded like a ska band, judging by the trumpets.

They had been laying on their backs for a while now. Occasionally talking but mostly just enjoying each other's company. He used the now flat backpack as a pillow but was getting uncomfortable. Another thing making him uncomfortable was how much he wanted to kiss Marco. They had gotten to know each other so quick and so easily that it was hard to ignore how much he genuinely liked Marco. Like, liked him liked him.

_Oh god I feel like a 3rd grader._

"Hmm." Came a quiet, almost sleepy response.

"You're not falling asleep are you?" 

"Me? Never." Marco drawled. Jean might have been convinced if Marco hadn't yawned so hard, his jaw cracked.

_Well, it's now or never._

He thought trying to psych himself into action, using sleepiness as an excuse should he completely overstep the boundaries of their very (extremely) young friendship, flirtationship, _whatevership_  he and Marco had going.

"I'm going to use you as a pillow, cool?" Hoping he sounded nonchalant and not incredibly creepy.

"Huh? Sure." Marco responded, sounding, if possible, even sleepier. He folded his arm under his head, giving Jean the entire expanse of hard muscled left side to choose from. 

Sitting up and scooting back a bit, he turned around to grab the nag and shove the sunglasses he had perched on his head inside

He heard a husky "Hey, Jean" from behind him and when he turned to face where he supposed Marco to be, soft lips crashed against his, Jean's eyes widening in surprise.

He opted to close his eyes and kiss Marco back. Smiling against his lips, Marco deepened the kiss, running his tongue along Jean's bottom lip. Jean was insanely pleased at this turn of events, threading his fingers through Marcos hair, relishing in the little noises Marco made in response. Jean took an experimental nip at Marco's full lower lip, tugging lightly/ Marco responded ardently, wrapping his arms around Jean's waist. He trailed his fingers over Jean's smooth skin, his shirt riding up around the small of his back.

Breaking away and more than a little out of breath, Jean pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against Marco's. 'Well that was unexpected.'

Marco giggled and bit his lip, eyes flitting between Jean's. "I don't think I could've gone home without doing that." 

Marco started leaning back, pulling Jean down with him. They were still not facing the same direction and Jean could make out the band still playing, but they seemed smaller than before. Like Marco was suddenly in HD, ultra focus and everything else was pushed back and blurry.

They arranged the selves with him facing the stage and Marco facing away, Jean's head on Marco's chest, making a big T with their large bodies.

Settling onto his side, he could hear the rapid pace of Marco's heartbeat.  

"Glad to know it wasn't just me." Jean said wryly, poking Marco's chest and looking up at him, wide smile on his face. 

Blushing furiously, Marco chuckled and draped his left arm over Jeans stomach, giving a gentle squeeze. "There goes all my Cool Guy cred."

Glancing away, he ran his thumb over the inked band that encircled Marco's forearm. So much black ink. "You didn't have much to begin with, Freckles. Hey!"

Marco's noogie was not appreciated, but Jean simmered down quick when the rough knuckles were eased into trailing fingers and Jean was practically purring at the sensation.

"Don't go falling asleep on me." 

Jean hadn't even noticed his eyes had drooped closed. "Its your fault," Jean pouted.

"I can stop if you want." Marco sounded genuinely concerned, immediately removing his hand.

"No! I mean," Jeans cheeks burned and he know Marco had noticed, "Please don't stop. I promise I won't fall asleep." The last sentence was more mumble than actual words.

"You know," Marco said, face becoming progressively redder, "I imagined you'd say those same words under different circumstances."

Jean was shocked. And horny. It was a tie. No it was't, he was definitely mostly horny and it was all because of this stupid, impossibly dorky guy.

_'Who in their right mind looks so damn innocent when making that kind of innuendo?'_

"Marco Bodt, my poor virgin ears! At least take me on a date first!" 

Jean was mostly joking, not expecting Marco to actually like him enough for more than a one night thing. But without missing a beat, "How does next Saturday sound?"

_'Goddamn, he is smooth as fuck.'_

Thinking about it, he would be free most if not all weekends until mid-August when he was moving into the off-campus housing he and Connie had managed to find. 

"It sounds really great, actually." Butterflies started fluttering. "I didn't think id get to see you until school started. If you even wanted to see me again, that is." 

"Hey." Marco moved his hand up from its perch on Jeans hip to cradle his face, forcing Jean to look him in the eye. "I like you, okay? And we're going to meet up next Saturday, in Trost or Jinae or somewhere in between, and we're going to have a laugh, a smoke, and a hell of a good time."

"You smoke?" Jean hadn't seen him smoking all day and he didn't smell of ash.

"Only when I drink." Was his answer, trailing his thumb across Jean's cheekbone. "I wouldn't on our date anyway. The point is, I want to see you again. Preferably sooner than the month and a half before classes start." 

Feeling as out of breath as Marco looked, Jean impulsively shifted up and leaned over so he could press a soft, very chaste kiss to Marcos lips.

"I would really like that." He whispered.

Marco beamed at him, crushing him against his chest. "God, I am ridiculously happy right now."

"I think with a little more air I'd feel the same." Marco let him go and Jean sat up, not before lacing his fingers with Marco's though. 

"So, I would be able to visit you. Like as your boyfriend?" Jean was going out on a limb here. His moms had always been very supportive of his dates, whether they were girls or guys, but he knew too many kids with parents who weren't so understanding. 

"You want to be my boyfriend? But we just met. How do you know I'm not a complete tool?"

"I seriously doubt that. And it's not like I'm asking for marriage or anything, just if I can hold your hand and meet your parents and sister. You know, like, eventually." Jean could feel his ears heat up.

Marco squeezed his hand gently, rubbing his thumb along Jean's knuckles soothingly. "I had a 2 hour conversation with my parents about pansexuality two thanksgivings ago. They can handle it. He'll I think my dad would adopt you if he could should he ever get a hold of your sandwiches."

He smiled up at him, and Jean's heart thumped a little harder. A little faster.

The band was done playing and people were starting to pack up their things. The crowd below was streaming towards the exits on either side, leading to the two available parking lots. Jean was probably seeing things, but he swore he could see Sasha and Connie bouncing through the crowd.

Looking back down, Jean caught Marco staring at him and flashed him a grin. Marco returned it and squeezed his hand once before letting go and starting to pack up their few strewn belongings. 

"I'm surprised you guys are still here!" Sasha called, running up the slight incline and sliding into Jean. Her post concert high was in full swing and he hoped it wouldn't waver until she was home and not in his general vicinity. Demands for fries and milkshakes at midnight in a relatively calm city like Trost were not easily appeased.

Connie, Ymir, and Historia were walking up at a more relaxed pace and looking happy but exhausted. "Thought you guys would've snuck off to one of the cars, with the bedroom eyes you've been giving each other all day."

"Ymir," Historia admonished, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "They've been wearing sunglasses all day."

"It was that goddamn obvious, to be honest." Connie dead panned, sinking into the grass, face first, not moving. Jean saw it as a sure sign that he was having a nice, quiet drive back to Trost.

Marco stood up, brushing the back of his jeans off. He offered a hand to Jean and pulled him up, helping Jean with the back of his shirt. They switched off as Ymir rolled Connie face up and dumped what was left of a water bottle to wake him up.

Historia was having some trouble with keeping Sasha relatively still, finally getting her to hop in place from one foot to the other by handing her cheese puffs one at a time. 

"Our friends are fucking weird." Jean murmured into Marcos neck, pressing a quick kiss to the sweaty skin. Marco let out a laugh, reaching around to sling his arm across Jeans shoulders, tucking him against his side. 

"So next Saturday?" He asked, looking up at Marcos pretty freckled face and this gorgeous brown eyes. His hair was perfectly tousled too, making Jean groan internally at long distances. Jinae was't that far, but the drive would be brutal on a regular basis.

Marco nodded, face serious for a split second before leaning over and kissing him, deliciously slow. Jean was a little dizzy when they parted, the hoots and hollers of their friends finally registering. Jean gave Marco a last peck on the cheek before moving off to round up Connie and Sasha and guiding them to the exit.  

Halfway down the hill, he turned around and caught Marco's eye as he walked towards the other exit. He gave a wave, a wide smile covering his face and nearly started giggling when Marco returned both, his wave particularly enthusiastic.

After 20 of the longest minutes Jean has ever endured, which included Sasha running off to the food trucks and Connie nearly falling into an overturned port-a-potty, Jean was in Sasha's SUV, with the others strapped into the back seats and the child locks on the doors (just in case) when it hit him.

"I didn't get his fucking number." He groaned out, hitting his head on the steering wheel after each word for emphasis.

A a throaty chuckle from the back caught his attention. Sasha, near the crashing stage of her post-concert cycle, was sitting up and leaning heavily on the door, her eyes oddly focused as she weakly held up her arm.

The 7 precious numbers scrawled there were already blurring from her sweat and jumping around and Jean was not going to let what may be his only chance at that freckled boys phone number get away.

Slowly unbuckling his seat belt, he crawled over the middle, keeping his voice as soothing as possible, 'Good Sasha. Nice Sasha. Just sit still.'

He couldn't make any sudden movements or it's one swipe from a sweaty hand and no more number.  

Jean slowly took his phone out from his back pocket, subtly swiping for the camera function. There was an unlocking noise from the phone and he cursed ever having the damn thing off of silent because Sasha broke out in a smile wider than the Cheshire cat's.

Then his phone made another sound.

This time, it was Jean who broke out in a shit eating grin because he had a new text message. 

He clambered back into the drivers seat, opening the can of Monster strategically left in the cupholder and taking a swig, promptly grimacing at the horrible taste. It was hot and gross but there was a kick so it was moot.

Jean started the car and unlocked his phone with a quick swipe.

 

**From: Unknown  
** **hey jean its that guy u were making out with 2day b4 u fall in love with me there's something u need 2 kno...............**

 

After quickly adding Marco to his contacts, he typed out a quick reply.

 

_**To: Marco  
** **Getting a little ahead of ourselves here... What's this big awful thing??** _

 

He put his phone in the remaining cupholder and pulled out of the spot, the traffic dying down enough he wouldn't road rage every 0.3 seconds.

It seems that certain people thought the same because right before he was out onto the main road, he got cut off by none other than that douche, Eren Jaeger. He had the audacity to flash him a toothy grin and a wave and just keep going. He heard his phone buzz with what was probably Marco's response, or essay, judging by the amount of buzzing his phone was doing. Jean hoped he wasn't texting while he drove.

Stopping at a red light before the on ramp to the freeway leading to Trost, he quickly grabbed his phone. He took a swig of energy drink, nearly spit it out. Again.

 

**From: Marco  
** **titanium is a most amorous metal.**

**From: Marco  
** **when it gets hot, itll combine w anything.**

 

Then a few seconds later:

 

**From: Marco  
** **its me the titanium is me**

 

After sending the obligatory ' ** _Drivng ttyl_** ' text, adding a ' ** _< 3_**' because he was a sap.

' _I can't believe I'm falling for a grown ass man who likes chemistry puns'_

And as he hit the accelerator and eased onto the highway, he realized he was kind of looking forward to it.


	2. He Tastes Like Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Jean is a nerdy white boy and Marco resolves a 6-year grudge in 0.08 seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this au wont leave me alone so I'm just going to roll with it. 
> 
> Anyway, remember to you can [yell at me](rubble-and-stardust.tumblr.com) if it sucks

**_To: Jean  
_ ** **_wats the chem formula for "banana"?_ **

 

 **_To: Jean  
_ ** **_BaNa2_ **

****

**From: Jean  
** **Dude, you need to stop waking me up with these lame ass jokes. Do you come up with them in your sleep or something?**

****

**_To: Jean  
_ ** **_its 1pm!_ **

****

**_To: Jean  
_ ** **_if I say yes, wld u believe me?_ **

****

**From: Jean  
** **Hell no. You prob took them from some lame professor.**

****

**_To: Jean  
_ ** **_mayb i did mayb i didn't ull never kno... ;p_ **

****

**_From: Jean  
_ ** **_Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck_ **

****

**_To: Jean  
_ ** **_wat?!_ ** ****

****

**From: Jean  
** **Just got a notification from the phone co. I'm almost at my texting limit D:**

**_To: Jean_ ** **_  
_ ** **_then why r we still texting?!_ **

****

**_To: Jean  
_ ** **_facetime?_ **

 

The response was immediate, his phone flashing **_"Jean would like to FaceTime..."_** He quickly tapped 'Answer' with his big thumb, secretly glad for the change. His big fingers weren't conducive to texting, forcing him to shorten almost everything into text acronyms. He could type perfectly fine on computers but iPhone keyboards were way too small for him.

 _'I should ask him for his Skype when I can'_

Jeans face filled his screen, hair disheveled from sleep. "Wow, I missed your face."

Marco could see him turning red from the accidental word vomit. He also had a slight lisp Marco didn't think was there the week before. 

"Hey! Im more than just a pretty face!" He said, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "I have a hot body too!"

Jean chuckled, shaking his head, "Yeah, yeah." 

"I'm being completely serious." Marco responded, keeping his straight face for about 0.2 seconds before breaking out into giggles.

"You are so lame."

"And you're pretty cute yourself. I missed your face too, you know."

"Stop that." Jean said, growing visibly pink again as he scratched at his stumbled chin.

Marco would take it to his grave that the moment he had gotten back from the concert just last Sunday, he had Facebook searched all Jeans in the greater Trost area, and then when he found the right one, meticulously pored over the small number of viewable posts. He might kiss strange boys at concerts but he did his homework, even if it was after the fact.

He had waited until the next day like a normal person to friend request Jean Kirschtein and then proceeded to go through the new pictures available. He had been a cute kid, pictures often of him in various states of dirty during soccer games. There's were a bunch with Connie and Sasha, a progression from a cute picture of Jean and Sasha playing patty-cake, no older than 7, to a pic-stitched baby faced 6th grade school pictures of them and Connie, to incredibly awkward-stage freshman year pictures from various get togethers and school trips, complete with the deadly braces-and-glasses combination. It wasn't until Marco hit the 'Senior Year' album that Jean began to look like the boy he'd met. He'd chronicled his his adventures into tattoo parlors for his various piercings, first studs in either lobe, then the cartilage Marco knew he got with his moms, then the bar in the other ear, finishing with stretching his earlobe piercings to a 0 gauge. In one graduation photo, Jean posed with both his moms.

The blonde woman from the video Jean had showed him, the one he called Mom, was fairly tall, only about an inch shorter than Jean. He also had her narrow face and thin lips. The other Mrs. Kirschtein was much shorter, her dark hair falling in large curls up to her shoulder. They had the same lopsided smile.

From somewhere far away, he heard someone shout, "Jean. Elizabeth. Kirschtein!"

Jean became visibly nervous, the lisp more apparent. "Shit, my mom's home. You'll cry at my funeral, right?" 

The goofy grin he flashed at Marco made his stomach flip flop. He knew his face was breaking into a smile too. 

"It can't be that bad." He said flipping over onto his stomach, hugging his pillow with one arm as he held his phone upright with the other. "And your middle name is Elizabeth?"

Jean's face grew serious, his voice ominous, "I don't even have a middle name."

"Jean!" Marco heard the door open roughly, and Mrs. Kirschtein promptly began speaking rapid french. Marco could only see Jean's face as he responded, his French broken with 'um's and nervous laughter. 

Marco got a new text notification and quickly switched over to the message.

 

 **From: Ymir  
** **Historia's doing a thing at the lake-house on Tuesday. Tell the pasty blonde you picked up at the festival to come, god knows he needs some sunlight. Also his friends... they we're fun.**

**From: Ymir  
** **Don't tell him I said that.**

 

He chuckled, Ymir could act as tough as she wanted. Marco knew she was a puddle of mush at heart.

 

**_To: Ymir  
_** **_i’ll let him know :)_ **

Switching back, his view shook as Jean waved his phone, going back to English, "-but see, were on FaceTime now and I promise not to text until the next bill cycle, I swear." 

There was a moment of silence and Marco could see Jean breathing a little quicker than normal.

"Fine," she said, sounding like she believed her son. "Do you want pizza or Chinese for lunch?"

"Chinese, please." Marco could easily imagine Jean using the same small voice, the edges of his lips curled upward, when he was significantly younger and less scruffy.

Marco heard the door close. "Jesus, that sounded bad."

"Not really. It was pretty textbook. Everything sounds harsher in French."

"Probably. Hey, what are you doing day after tomorrow?"

"Probably same as today... .talking with you and watching movies. Why? What are you planning?" Jean squinted at him.

Marco was suddenly nervous, butterflies buzzing about his abdomen, "Ymir, well, Historia really, invited us to the Reiss Lakehouse-"

"Wait, Reiss. As in rubbing shoulders with Vanderbilts and the Waldorfs and inviting the fucking Kennedys to brunch, Reiss?"

Jean's tone made Marco instantly wary. "Yeah, well. You shouldn't be treating her any differently because of her family. She's still a regular person."

"Marco." Jean's face was dead serious, looking straight into the camera. "I know you haven't known me for very long but believe me, I would never treat her any different. I am the poster-boy for telling people about my family and having it blow up in my face. I've even gotten shit from people I thought were my friends when they found out about my moms." Jean looked so sad and rejected at that memory, idly playing with the ring in his mouth with his tongue. He literally shook himself out of it, his expression turning earnest. "I will never make her feel unconfortable about her family. I just want aware you wee friends with celebrities."

"Oh. Well, good then. So you'll come?" Marco smiled at Jean, and he smiled back.

' _Real eloquent, Marco. At true poet.'_

"Can I bring the kids?" Jean asked, the goofy grin back on his face. 

Marco couldn't help but laugh. They really were like hyperactive kids. "Yeah, Ymir said to bring them too." He debated, just for a second, on whether or not he should mention it but the chance at seeing Jean blush scarlet was too tempting. 

"You know, I never noticed you had a lisp. It's kind of cute."

Jean stuttered, "I-I don't have a listhp." He looked down at his traitorous mouth, red tinging his cheeks. "Fuck! Marco, gimme a sec." 

As Marco laughed openly, he was treated to a view of the popcorn ceiling of Jean's room. He could hear Jean shuffle out, a quick moment of silence, before he heard more shuffling.

The view was skewed as Jean settled back, leaning heavily on his headboard with a pair of thick rimmed glasses on his face. He was pouting.

"It was my retainer. You knew and you didn't say anything."

Marco burst into uncontrollable giggles. "I swear I didn't know."

The pout turned into a smirk, and Marco knew he was forgiven. They had only spoken for days but he felt he knew Jean better than some of the people he'd known forever.

"You know," He started.

"Hmm?" Jean looked like he was about to fall asleep, eyes heavy lidded, his mouth slightly open and corners turned up in a small smile, and that silver ring was calling to Marco like a lighthouse calls to a ship on stormy nights. That stupid undercut and those fierce eyes the color of raw honey entranced him like nothing else. Marco had never felt this way for anyone, stuck in zero gravity until he saw Jean's face and suddenly brought crashing down. 

 _'Ive got it so bad I don't even care that I sound like a cheesy romance_ _.'_

"You look really hot with those glasses. Especially on your bed like that."

Jean's eyes widened, face reddening to a lovely shade of red in Marco's opinion, sputtering a bit as he tried to form words. He gave up, resolving to let the phone drop onto his lap, and giving Marco the perfect view of him putting his head in his hands and groaning a long, "Stoooop making me blush."

Marco giggled, " 'cause I said you looked hot? No way!"

* * *

 

"Land!"

Jean cracked his eye open enough to catch Sasha as gave him a searing look as she hopping out of the drivers seat of her SUV, making sure the empty bags of chips didn't tumble out with her. 

"It was not that bad."

"Speak for yourself." Came a sleepy mumble from the backseat. Jean was slumped against Marco, a large, warm, and very freckled arm encircling his shoulders. 

"You were asleep the whole way!"

Marco looked up, bleary eyed. "She has a point." 

They had all decided that meeting up at Sasha's was the best idea, her car having the largest trunk space. Trost was on the way to Village point, so Marco had set out from Jinae at 5 in the morning, 2 hours before Connie and Jean had to be at Sasha's house.

Connie opened the back door, Marco nearly falling over in his sleepy state. As much as Connie liked grousing about Sasha's driving, there was apparently fun to be had. "C'mon! Let's _carpe diem_  this shit!"

"That doesn't even make any sense." Jean whined, getting out and stretching his poor cramped muscles. He saw Marco stumble out of the car and go to the trunk. Ymir had put them on lunch duty, and they brought enough ingredients to make burgers for an entire battalion. 

As Jean grabbed an armful of lettuce bags and worked on adding the cheese packets to his pile, a rumbling voice yelled from behind them, "You guys finally made it!"

The guy was huge, towering over all of them, his blonde hair buzzed short with a pair of aviators perched on his head. There was an even taller guy with him, his deep tan skin glinting with sweat.  He turned to Marco, who was pulling weakly at a particularly large cooler. "Hey, Ymir told me and Reiner what happened at the festival-"

"Bertl, it was a full fledged bitching."

"-and we just wanted to say" he continued, shooting a meaningful look at the blonde, "were sorry about you getting hurt. We didn't realize you weren't part of the mosh until it was too late."

Marco looked up at him, a feat Jean hadn't been sure was possible, and gave him a wane smile "It's cool. I had totally put it out of my mind to be honest."

"Besides," continued the blonde, Reiner, grabbing the cooler Marco's as trying to tug towards him, and lifting it easily in his beefy arm. "We heard the shiner was worth it."

Even in his sleep deprived state, Marco blushed.

With Bertl and Reiner's help, they managed to load up all the supplies in one trip, Sasha closing the trunk with a tap of her foot against the bumper. If Jean so much as bumped his beat up old Jetta in the wrong way, the thing refused to even start. Walking along the path leading from the driveway, they made their way around the house to the backyard where the lakes was.

The house was modest for what Jean expected the Reiss' to have, a multimillionaire political family that probably had multiple vacation homes a cross the US. It had two floors and four French doors opened onto the deck on the ground floor that extended almost right up to the water, where it connected to a decent sized dock jutting out into the lake for a good 40 feet. The deck itself was pretty expansive, fitting 2 rows of at least 4 copies of Sasha's monster SUV. 

There was a raised fire pit at the center, with patio chairs and lounges set up around it. Two patio umbrellas were set up at either end, one with a table for the food and enough shade for the the two coolers they had brought in addition to the two already there, the other was occupied by Ymir and the blonde girl her and Historia had hung out with at the festival. They had a set of massive speakers with them, already playing folky music from an iPod. 

As they unloaded their stuff, Historia came to thank them for coming.

"I know it's a hell of a drive so thanks for making it." She said, beaming up at them.

"Thanks for inviting us." Marco said quietly, trying hard not to sway on his feet. He looked bone tired from the drive. Jean's equally sorry state made him realize that maybe skyping the night before may not have been the best idea, seeing as they always kept talking until one or both of them fell asleep.

Historia chuckled, noticing his unsteady balance. "You and Jean should tan on the deck with me."

Marco smiled appreciatively, nudging Jean, who didn't quite react as quickly and dragged him over to a pair of pool lounges.

"Do you guys have a volleyball?" Sasha asked, striping off her overclothes and slathering on sunscreen, working around the familiar black polka dot halter bikini top and boyshort bottoms. 

Jean saw Connie paying particular attention to Reiner as he tossed him the volleyball, already standing on the by the lakeside. Jean knew, even in his sleep deprived state, that Connie was making extra sure not to look at the curve were the short shorts ended and her already tan skin began, having caught him a couple of times before. They were joined shortly by Bertl, drying his sweating skin with a towel, and then Sasha. 

Up on the deck, Jean and Marco collapsed into the loungers, intent on napping until their bodies were ready to be functional. Just as they managed to splay out comfortably, Ymir's voice grated at them, "You guys are dead set on getting farmers tans, aren't ya?"

They both groaned audibly. Jean haphazardly slouched off his shirt, just quick enough to catch Marco pulling his long sleeve off too, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off, leaving his hair significantly, and sexily, tousled. He knew Marco was a big guy, that much was evident from his height and those biceps his shirt didn't seem to fit around. But shirtless? Jean could see that Marco was built, not in the large, intimidating way Reiner was, but deceptively so.

Jean had seen a few videos of Marco playing for Saint Sina U, curtesy of Facebook and knew Marco could move his large frame with grace and ease. He was thick waisted, with a barrel chest and every muscle clearly defined, from the traps on either side of his strong neck to the deep V leading down his abs to more interesting regions.

_'God bless collegiate baseball.'_

He was startled away from his staring by a spray bottle of sunscreen coming straight at him. He put his arms up, protecting his face, but the canister never reached him. Marco and his lightning reflexes had caught it before it got anywhere near Jean. He began spraying liberal amounts on his chest and legs, the dark hair sticking to his skin. 

"Get my back for me?" He asked, handing the can to Jean and turning around. Jean sprayed generously, rubbing the sunscreen evenly across his broad back. He noticed the freckles on Marco's shoulders were larger and darker than those anywhere else on his body.

"Now do me." Jean said, handing back the canister.

Marco chuckled, his voice low, "A regrettable choice of words of you ask me."

Jean could feel the heat rising to his face. And other places were heating up as well. He cringed slightly at the cold spray, but quickly relaxed as Marco's warm hands spread out the sunscreen over his pale back. Looking down at himself, he nearly cringed again at his own physic. Pasty white skin on a skinny frame made a harsh contrast to the Adonis sitting next to him. Jean had never been able to put on weight, and his last growth sport had left him feeling more  gangly than ever. 

A tap on his shoulder with the cold can brought him out of his reverie. Quickly spraying the rest of himself, he finished by spraying a good amount on his hands, rubbing the sunscreen all over his face, making sure to get the back of his ears, especially the areas around the metal bar across his cartilage and the ring in his lip. One time at the beach he forgot and almost every piercing had 1st degree burns.

He turned to Marco, already laid out on his back and looking rather unconscious. "Did you get your face?"

The anguished expression his face told Jean everything he needed to hear.

"Here, I'll do it. Keep your eyes closed." 

Marco nodded once, face smoothing into a blank expression. Crouching over, Jean sprayed his hands again and smoothed the sunscreen evenly on Marco's face as gently as possible, making sure to get his ears too, distinctly recalling all those times his moms had done the same thing to him before soccer games.

As Jean was leaning back up, Marco caught his arm and tugged him back down, planting a tender, if not sleepy, kiss on his lips. 

As Jean climbed back into his chair, he heard Marco smack his lips softly and say, "Hmm, you taste like sunshine." Before promptly flipping onto his stomach and falling asleep, chiseled back rising and falling with even breaths.

_'So cute but so lame'_

Jean closed his eyes, fingers playing at the metal ring in his mouth.

* * *

Marco opened his eyes, and immediately shut them against the bright sunlight. He was still a bit groggy, but exponentially more awake than the zombie-like state when they had first arrived. 

' _Im never skyping with jean until 1am ever again.'_

Jean had fallen asleep first the previous night, bringing their already pretty delirious conversation to a close. He had even continued talking, nonsense really, for a few minutes after when Marco asked him questions, trying his hardest not to laugh too loudly.

_'Maybe only when we have to get up early.'_

Leaving Jinae at 5 am was easier than he had expected, feeling relatively awake and kept conscious by the XL thermos of coffee his father had prepared for him.

His stomach had decided to wake up as well, it seemed, making a particularly distressing noise, like something was going to come clawing out if not fed soon.

Sitting up and setting his cap back on his head, he looked down at himself and cringed. He was already a shade darker and he could swear there were new freckles dotting his chest. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Historia was digging through one of the coolers, flashing him a smile as she tucked three bottles of water into her arms. She came over to where they were sitting and handed two to Marco, opening the last one and taking a huge gulp. She looked tanner too, a line of pale skin peaking from where the plaid bikini top had shifted slightly. 

"How long were we out?" Marco asked, turning his head to see if there was a big difference between his front and back. 

"About an hour." she responded, settling back into her chair. "Don't worry, Ymir and Annie flipped you guys over, like, 20 minutes ago."

"You're heavy as fuck, you know that?" Ymir said, looking up from the tablet she was scrolling through, a toothy grin on her face. 

Annie looked over at Marco, her face blank but her words were tinged with humor, "Your boyfriend is light as a feather."

"We're not together, exactly." It had only been a week, so Marco wasn't expecting to have the exclusivity conversation just yet. "But speaking of which..." Marco started prodding Jean's side with the butt of his bottle, leaving dewy drops on the reddening skin. "Jean, wake up."

His only response was some grumbling as Jean turned on his side, facing Marco. There was a line across his cheek from pressing against the slats of the chair for too long.

"Wake up, or I'll let Sasha and Connie make the burgers themselves."

A single, glaring eye cracked open, "Over my dead body."

To Marco's delight, Jean's stomach gave an exceptional rumble. Food was near and it was going to be so _damn good._

"Ugh, fine!" Jean sat up, blinking hard in the harsh sunlight. Marco tossed the remaining waterbottle into his lap, looking at his perpetually grumpy boyfriend. 

He was lithe, with a thin frame and hidden strength in his barely defined muscles. He had hardly any chest hair, mostly concentrated on his sternum and a thin trail between his hips. Marco thought Jean would be wicked fast with that build, light on his feet. 

' _Maybe even flexi-'_

A ruckus from the volleyball nets broke Marco out of his trance.

"Oh my god, Mikasa Ackerman it has been _years_! Armin and Eren too?"

Marco looked to where Sasha was hugging a slightly distressed girl with short raven hair. A blonde boy with hair half up in a small bun was giving Connie the bro hello, clasping each other's hands while going in for a one armed hug. 

"Jean get the fuck down here and say hello!" Sasha called, letting go of the girl, Mikasa, and pouncing on the dark haired boy standing just next to her. 

After finishing the entire bottle of water in one go, Jean wiped his mouth with the back of his mouth. Marco ought he didn't look quite as pleased to say hello to the new comers.

He stood up, offering his hand to Marco, "C'mon. You get to say hi too."

Marco too Jean's hand and pulled himself upright, keeping hold when Jean made to let go. He looked up at Marco, squeezing his hand gently. Marco squeezed back, flashing him a genuine smile, and they headed down the deck stairs to the makeshift beach. 

He can feel Jean's hands begin to shake was they come closer to the huddle of people. With a final squeeze, Jean let go of Marco's hand and pulled the blonde boy into a hug.

"Hey, Armin. It's nice to see you again. Everything good?"

As they let go, Marco could see that Armin's smile was small but genuine. "Everything good. Starting up at Saint Sina in the fall. You?"

"Same. And everything's been pretty good, you know..." Jean was fiddling with the bar across his ear.

"Ahem." Marco cleared his throat, making a face at Jean, and Armin's smile widened.

"Oh, um. Sorry. This is Marco." His ears were tinted pink and not from sun exposure. "Marco, meet Armin."

"It's nice to meet you. Don't worry, Jean's this rude with everyone."

"Oh good." Marco let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, "I thought it was just me."

That earned him a playful smack.

"Oh and this is Mikasa. Mikasa, this is Jean's friend, Marco."

Her eyebrows shot up at the mention of the word 'friend. She smiled at Marco and shot him a knowing look.

_'Oh, she knows.'_

"Hi, Jean." 

"Hey, Mikasa!" Marco sees him cringe visibly at how forceful it comes out. "I mean, um, hi." 

She lets out a short laugh, her eyes crinkling with mirth "Oh c'mon. You can't still have a crush on me."

Jean actually laughed at that one, the tension easing from his raised shoulders as he hugged her.

Marco saw the dark haired boy, presumably Eren, come up behind Mikasa. Waiting to say hi as well. Connie and Sasha had come up on their periphery and Marco was suddenly tense as well. 

"Hey Jean. It's been a while."

At the sound of his voice, Jean bristled, eyes suddenly hard. He doesn't say Nything just yet, merely sticking his hand out once mikado moved off to Eren's side.

"It has." Marco is relieved to hear the playful tone in his words, even if his eyes were as hard as stones. "Maybe this time we won't rip each other's throats throats, huh?"

Everyone chuckled nervously.

"Hey," Marco looks down at Jean, poking his arm lightly. "Shouldn't we get those burgers going?"

At the mention of burgers, Sasha and Connie started bouncing in place, breaking e tension.

"Duty calls." He said, mostly to Armin and Mikasa as Eren had already gone off to say hello to Historia.

"Hey, Krista! Ow! Shit, sorry, I meant Historia. Christ, Ymir, it's going to take more than two weeks to undo four years of habit!"

When they got to the umbrella with the coolers, Jean let out a sigh, wrapping his arms around Marco's waist and blurring his face into his bare chest. "Thank you." He mumbled into the sweaty skin.

Marco wrapped his arms around Jean's shoulders, perching his chin atop his blonde head. "He's the friend you told me about, yeah?" 

His head bobbed as Jean nodded. Marco pressed a quick kiss to Jean's hairline. 

"You want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to tell." Jean responded, moving away from Marco and grabbing the plastic bags full of marinating hamburger patties from a cooler. 

Marco moved to set up the huge and extraordinarily shiny BBQ grill. After making sure the propane tank was connected, he loaded the grilling bed with coal from the sack leaning against the wall. He lit it easily with the long necked lighter hanging on the side.

A bump to his hip alerted him that Jean was next to him, cradling at least half of the patties they had brought. When Jean had told Marco how many packages he'd bought, Marco thought it was way to much. But seeing the group of people that had come, he imagined the 30 patties would go pretty quickly. 

Jean talked as he worked, laying out patties on the bottom rack and settling the buns to toast on the top.

"At one of my middle school soccer games, Eren found out about my moms. I'm not ashamed of them, but I don't usually bring it up with everyone. We were probably in 7th grade at the time? But anyway, he starts making little comments about it. Like 'which ones the dad' and 'who wears the pants', shit like that. Oh, Thanks."

Marco had handed him an open bottle of beer, before sitting on the cooler it came from. 

"So I tell him he can say whatever he wants about me but to shut the fuck up about my moms." He takes a long swig, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "So of course he stops but when we were alone, he'd keep it up. After a while, it got violent. One day it went to far. I don't even remember what he said I was just so fucking angry. I broke his arm and everything." 

Marco got up and grabbed Jean by the shoulders, making him meet his eyes. "Has he apologized?" 

Jean's eyes begin to roam, looking anywhere but at him, and he shook his head.

Marco grabbed Jean's face, forcing him to meet his eyes. Jean stared wide eyed.

"Jean, you precious sunflower." Marco ran his thumbs across Jean's cheeks tenderly. "Do you want him to apologize?"

"I think it would help? I mean, like after we started high school he kind of came out and he's been dating Armin for a while now so I assume he was just having a gay panic or something. But seeing him after all this time put me right back to when I was just so furious _all the time_ and- just, yeah."

Marco was transfixed as Jean bit his lip. He nodded and let go and Jean started flipping the patties. Marco waited until he'd finished all of them before coming up behind him and scooping him up, slinging him over his shoulder like a very sputtery and sun-kissed sack of potatoes. 

"Marco! Hey what the fuck? Put me down man!"

_'Annie was right, Jean doesn't weigh a thing.'_

"Hey Eren!" Marco called, walking back down the steps to where Eren, Connie, Sasha, and Reiner were passing the volleyball. He made sure to keep his voice light even though he knew he looked pretty deadly. His teammates thought it convenient when playing away games. His intense gaze was enough to shut even the chattiest duesch on base. "I think you two have some unresolved issues. Why don't we get them out of the way?"

Marco deposited Jean and stood back a bit, giving them some room. 

Jean and Eren seemed to square off, maintaining eye contact.

Eren let out a breath, and started talking.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a total dick to you about your moms. I was caught up with my own conflicted feelings and I took it out on you and on them. And I shouldn't have. Your moms are two of the nicest people I've ever met. Mrs. Kirschtein always helped me with my French conjugations and Ms. Annette wrapped my wrist that one time I sprained it in a game and it was right after we had that massive fight so she probably knew about the things I had said and she didn't treat me worse for it. I'm sorry and even though I still don't like you. Your moms are good people and I do think I'll ever stop feeling horrible about it."

Marco can almost see the gears whirring inside Jean's head. His hands were clenching and unclenching, his breathing a little harder, but his eyes were focused.

A little stiffly, he offered his hand and when Eren carefully took it, Jean pulled him into a one armed hug. 

Everyone was in shock, just staring.

"It's just so beautiful."

Eren and Jean let go to a chorus of "Reiner" both looking bashful.

"So, um, are those burgers ready?"

"Oh fuck!"

As Jean sprinted to the grill, Armin and Mikasa went up to Marco.

"Thank you for that." Mikasa said, fiddling with the tassels on her red wrap. Her gaze was direct and Marco could see why Jean stuttered so much when he spoke to her. She was intimidating and beautiful.

"There was no way they would have listened to anyone else." Armin said, patting Marco's shoulder. 

Marco just smiled but it was tight lipped. 

"Food's ready!" Jean called and everyone went over to grab a burger before they got cold.

Marco wasn't going to say anything but he couldn't fathom why it had taken so long for the issue to get resolved. 

 _'I'll talk to him about it when he's ready_ _'_

Grabbing a burger, only adding the sour cream and onion Ruffles at Jean's insistence, he sat atop a cooler with Jean, bumping him affectionately with his shoulder.

He'd loaded the grill with the next batch of burgers, getting ready for the second wave.

" 's good." He mumbled, chewing slowly to savor the taste.

Ymir called from her seat behind Historia, both girls sitting at a lounge chair. "Christ Jean, what did you put in these burgers? They're fucking delicious."

"I literally just put them on the grill." Jean responded, ears growing pink.

_'Boy needs to learn how to take a compliment.'_

"Liar. You laced these with crack didn't you?" Eren piped up, already almost done with his.

"I may have marinated the meat in some wine... And rosemary-"

Connie's distinctive groan filled the air, "Ugh, just marry me already."

* * *

 

Sunlight streamed in through the glass panes, unfiltered and bright. A shaft of light was glaring Jean straight in the eye, making him flinch at the brightness. Marco shifted in his sleep, snuggling Jean closer to his bare chest.

Jean couldn't remember much from last night, drunk on beer and whiskey. And Marco. Hazy at best, he could just barely remember singing actual songs around the fire pit. There was also something about bunnies and marshmallows.

Cracking his eye open, he saw Marco mostly, the trim dark hair on his chest prickling his skin. They were nestled on a couch, more plush than any Jean had had the benefit of passing out on before.

Jean gently grasped Marco's tattooed arm, gently lifting it from his waist. He noticed he was shirtless too. 

An sharp intake of breath let Jean know that Marco was awake as well and when he stretched, he nearly rolled Jean onto the floor.

Grabbing him before he would fall, Marco mumbled something into Jean's hair.

"What?" 

"I said, why are we awake?" He repeated, voice muffled.

"Hell if I know." Jean replied, pressing a sleepy kiss on the first bit of flesh his lips could reach, a collarbone apparently. He gently stood up, and shlumped away to where he thought the bathroom was. He passed Connie and Sasha on his way there, curled on the floor underneath a fuzzy throw blanket.

He was right about the bathroom, making quick work of his board shorts and peeing for a solid minute.

_'Someone must have put a gallon of water to my face and made me chug because Christ this is ridiculous.'_

When he was done, he quickly washed his hands and was proud to notice he was less pale than when he arrived yesterday. 

Opening the door, he was startled to find Marco leaning on the doorframe, looking adorable in his sleepy state. He went to peck his cheek but Marco moved at the last moment, capturing his lips. Jean was quick to deepen the kiss, wrapping his arms around Marco's broad shoulders, slipping his tongue between his lips. Marco angled his head, opening his mouth and giving Jean access.

When they parted for air, Marco's hands lowered to Jean's hips, a finger tugging on the waistband of Jean's swimsuit.

"It took all day but you're a shade tanner." His voice husky and soft, sending a shiver up Jean's spine.

"I'm at least a couple shades darker." He couldn't keep his eyes off of Marco's lips, puckered and inviting. 

Marco ghosted those lips over Jean's, saying the two words guaranteed at making Jean want him more than the lasts top of water in the middle of the desert.

"Wanna bet?"

"Jean, will you make me breakfast please?" Jean peaked over Marco's shoulder, Sasha was standing in the middle of the small hallway, scratching her head absentmindedly and making the russet hair stand up in tufts. She was wearing Connie's shirt.

Jean leaned into Marco's chest, taking a deep breath and chuckling.

_'I can never be mad at her'_

"Sure, Sash." He says, planting a final kiss on Marco's mouth, dragging him out of the hall. "Go pee and I'll get breakfast going." She nods as she finished pulling her hair into a ponytail, and murmured "Sorry for interrupting" as they passed her.

Turning around, he planted a kiss atop her head. "It's okay, Sash."

They leave her then, and make their way to the kitchen, making sure to keep quiet, only to find Annie already there and staring at a percolating coffee pot. 

She looked up at them, blank faced, "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

As she returns to her vigil, Mikasa and Armin shuffle in around the counter looking half asleep.

"Go sit. You guys look dead on your feet." Jean said.

Mikasa made a small 'hmp' sound before tugging at Armin's sleeve and sitting heavily at the breakfast nook.

Cracking a loud yawn, Marco said, "You're one to talk. Should you be anywhere near a fire?"

Annie chuckled at that, handing them steaming mugs full of dark liquid before supplying Mikasa and Armin as well. "Go sit, Marco. I'll keep an eye on him."

"No, I'll help this time. I kind of want to see if he really does add crack to make everything so delicious."

Jean breathed out a laugh, opening the drawer underneath the stove and pulling out the largest skillets he could find. He winced at the noise he made, despite wanting to be as quiet as possible. The racket probably woke everyone on the second floor. Nudging Marco, he said, "See what we have in the fridge."

When Marco let out a bark of laughter, Jean looked at him, eyebrows raised. "I think they knew we were going to stay the night."

Peaking at the contents, Jean's mouth nearly dropped. Three 24-pack cartons of eggs, innumerable packets of bacon, and two large bags of thawed out French fries. On the top shelf stood 3 jugs of orange juice, the organic, freshly squeezed kind, and 2 gallons of milk. 

_'This is gonna be so good.'_

Marco asked, "Hey Annie, scrambled or sunny side up?"

Annie smirked at Marco, "For this army, definitely scrambled."

"You heard her," he said to Jean, flashing him a smile that made Jean's stomach do a little squirm. Marco began pulling out the packets of food as Jean scrambled to find everything they would need. He was pulling out the cartons as Jean unearthed the biggest plastic bowl he could find. He handed it off to Marco as he turned on the two front burners, settling the skillets on top. He pulled out two large pots and set them on the back burners on low heat. They would keep the food warm until it was ready to be served. 

He caught Marco searching for a fork to whisk the slopping bowl of eggs as he loaded the French fries onto cooking trays and settled them in the oven to bake.

Jean laid out strip after strip of bacon on one of the skillets after melting some butter. He was stirring the idly, waiting for Marco to finish with the first batch of eggs. 

A bump on his shoulder signaled him and Jean murmured a quick "Thanks, babe" before slowly adding the egg mix to the remaining skillet. He glanced up at Marco as he reached for the parsley to find him beaming at him. As Jean stirred the eggs, Marco swooped down to kiss him behind the ear before getting to cracking more eggs, heat swelling from where Marco's lips had met his skin.

After cooking three full batches of bacon and eggs and the second pan of fries in the oven, Jean turned to Annie "Hey, could you get anyone who's not-"

Annie was watching another pot brew with a small smile, behind her the others were at the small table, with mugs of coffee and juice in front of them. They looked half dead bit their noses were in the air.

_'Priorities.'_

"I hope Kirschtein doesn't poison us." Eren muttered, earning a half assed smack on his arm from Armin.

Connie looked at Jean blearily, back in his shirt, though it was inside out, "I'm telling you bro, you're going to make someone very happy one day."

In that warm glow of the kitchen, with Marco standing lose next to him, he couldn't help himself. He tiptoed and kissed Marco, soft and tender, whispering, "I hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (remember to let me know if you hate it, or if you like it, or whatever)
> 
> and also tell me if there are any grammar/spelling issues
> 
> thank you guys for reading!


	3. The Need For Soundtrack Selection is Apparently Inherited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucked up. Two months since the last update I am _so sorry_ I am trash.
> 
> Please take this chapter starting with Jean's moms and ending with (my first attempt at) steamy smut as an apology I will try to update this more regularly now that I don't have finals and crazy classes!
> 
> (Who am I kidding I'll be starting my internship soon and I have to start job hunting, okay I'm done)
> 
> Also, I do not, nor have I ever, spoken French so if the translation is weird please tell me...
> 
> go [yell at me](rubble-and-stardust.tumblr.com) if it's horrible

 

_"Please?"_

_"No. You're just going to laugh."_

_"I promise I won't."_

_"Fine."_

  
Marco smiled as he made the final turn onto Jean's block, recalling their Skype call from a few days before. Someday Jean wouldn't be so embarrassed to play for him or other people.

It had taken two weeks -  _two weeks_ \- of nagging to get Jean to play something for him. After the day, and drunken night, at the lakehouse, they were practically online all the time. They usually watched movies, taking turns sharing screens, or just talked about whatever show they had just marathoned together. 

On the other side of the screen, Jean tuned his little ukulele, biting his lip ring in concentration. He wearing the same band shirt from the music festival, the black cobra stretched over his lithe chest. He had a red beanie covering his blonde hair but Marco could see the Captain America gauges he had sent Jean the week before peaking out. They had both thoroughly enjoyed re-watching The Winter Soldier together, both trying to hide their crying over Peggy Carter and their mutual attraction to Chris Evans and his golden Dorito shoulder-to-waist ratio.

Marco settled back in his chair, his cap turned backward and slightly sweaty shirt. He had gone for a jog that morning while waiting for Jean to finally wake up.

Jean adjusted his thick framed glasses, nudging them back onto the bridge of his nose, his eyes not meeting the webcam as he spoke. "Okay, here goes."

**"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you  
** **Tomorrow I'll miss you  
** **Remember I'll always be true..."**

Marco couldn't help but smile.

At some point Jean looked up from his ukulele, still playing,  and met Marco's eyes. Jean smiled sweetly, much more sweetly than he had ever before, cheeks tinted red. He kept his eyes on Marco now, barely glancing down to make sure his fingers were hitting the right chords.

**"And when I'm away  
** **I'll write home every day  
** **And I'll send all my loving to you** **..."**

Marco folded his legs up, wrapping his arms around his shins and resting his chin on his knees. Jean's voice was melodic and a little raspy. Not the most fantastic voice but engaging all the same. 

**"All my loving I will send to you  
** **All my loving, darling I'll be true."**

Jean stopped playing the bridge abruptly, and Marco could hear howling in the residual silence. 

"Told you I wasn't any good." He said, a crooked grin on his face as he got up and disappearing for a moment before coming back, a bouncing, barking mass of black and brown in his wake.

Jean settled back into his chair, cradling a small dog in his arms, it's mouth open and tongue lolling out. 

"Marco, this is Peanut. He's a pain in the ass but he's kinda cute. Peanut, say hi to Marco."

Jean settled the dog on his lap so Marco could see his face just below Jean's on the video feed. Peanut leaned forward, sniffing at the screen and whoofing softly. 

"Aw, look at his stubby little legs. And you were really good!"

"Stop, I'm not that good." Was Jean's response, idly scratching behind Peanut's ears.

Peanut whoofed, gave the camera another sniff and toppled out of Jean's lap.

"So can you play something else?"

 

_'He could_ kill it _on karaoke nights at Garrison'_

Marco began paying more attention to the house numbers, checking them against the directions Jean had texted him. The street was lined with two story townhouses, lawns neatly trimmed and gardens still filled with flowers.

Jean had gone radio silent for 3 whole days after that. Marco had been mildly concerned, even texting Sasha and asking if anything was wrong.  
 

**From: Sasha  
** **He hasn't said anything to me.........**

**From: Sasha  
** **It's probably nothing, tbh. He goes off the grid for a while every so often, like, to be with himself, you know?**

**From: Sasha  
** **It's like he has only child syndrome or something and needs alone time or whatever.**

  
When Jean resurfaced, Marco debated bringing it up. When He finally bit the proverbial bullet and just asked, Jean's response as to why he hadn't sent a single text quickly put Marco at ease. 

Jean had been fiddling with his lip ring and Marco wanted to reach through his computer screen to slap his hand away. He wouldn't admit the amount of thought he had put to just how that little ring of metal would feel kissing his lips again, then his jaw and neck and then his hip and against a the raging boner he always got when he thought too long and hard about Jean and those piercings.

"My moms have been asking about you lately. I mean, they were a bit worried at the amount of time I was spending online." He chuckled nervously. "Anyway, um, they have pretty crazy schedules so would you be able to come by my house on Sunday? You can come by and we could have a quick dinner and then we could do something else. Like a movie maybe?"

Marco agreed, and then spurred a discussion on what movie to watch because they had apparently seen everything good already. 

He finally found the right townhouse, a corner unit with window-boxes full of flowers at every window. He pulled up into the driveway behind a nondescript, if slightly scuffed, Jetta that had to be Jean's, quickly shutting off the engine and typing out a quick text.

  
_**To: Jean  
** _ _**babe i'm here** _

  
He opened the car door, about to get out, but stopped himself when he remembered the bouquet of flowers in the back seat. When he turned to finally get out, he was greeting from a low 'whoof' from the cutest corgi he had ever seen.

Peanut seemed to recognize him from the video feed and wagged his tail as he perched his front paws on the base of. Marco's seat to sniff at him.

"Hey, Peanut." Marco cooed, offering his palm for inspection.

Apparently, Peanut liked him because he jumped up clumsily onto Marco's lap, sniffing at his face.

"You are the cutest." Marco laughed, grabbing the flowers and his keys in one hand while cradling he little dog against his chest with the other and clambered out. 

As he bumped the door closed with his hip, a dark haired woman came around the corner, eyes roaming the streets. When she caught sight of Marco, she smiled wide.

"Oh thank God! I wondered where he got to!"

Peanut squirmed in his arms and Marco quickly dropped low to place him on he ground. The corgi barked once and ran over to Jean's mom, jumping around her heels.

Marco extended his hand to her, "Hi Mrs. Keirschtein! I'm Marco."

"Please call me, Marjory!" She said, her handshake firm. She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow and led him around to the backyard. Her head barely came up to his chest.

"Jean has told us so much about you. Honestly, I'm really glad you go to St. Sina too. This way he already knows someone there who knows their way around."

They talked a bit about the drive as Marjory led him through a sliding glass door and into the dining room. It had a circular table made of dark wood with four distressed, rustic chairs. The center piece was a delicate terrarium with a variety of cacti and succulents.  The kitchen was right next to it, with wooden counter tops spanning in an L shape along the walls and a triangular island atop dark grey acrylic cabinet doors. There was was a wide bowl on the island with more succulents.

"My mom would love your kitchen." He said, then clarified, "She's an architect."

"Oh well, thank you! Annette and I like the contemporary-meets-rustic look."

"Maman? Pouvez-vous m'apporter plus shampoo? J'ai manqué de le mien!" Jean voice called from the door ajar just next to the dinning room table.

"Sure, mon cher!" Marjory called back. To Marco she said, "Make yourself at home."

As Marjory went upstairs, Marco quickly pulled out his phone and took some quick pictures of the kitchen. He wasn't kidding about his mom. He had just managed to put his phone away when Marjory came back downstairs, a bright green bottle in her hands. 

She had a devious, lopsided grin on her face that reminded him a lot of Jean. "Here." She said as she swapped out the bouquet he hadn't realized he was still holding with the shampoo bottle. 

She pushed Marco gently to the door and opened it, revealing a staircase that led down to a basement. 

"Jean's room down there and his bathroom leads off of it. I apologize in advance for my son's messiness." 

Laughing, Marco walked slowly down the short flight of stairs and through a doorway at the base of the steps into a relatively large room, roughly the size of a generic master bedroom. A bed was pushed up against the far wall, the comforter in a tangled mound, with a simple metal desk right next to it. A laptop sat atop it, along with an industrial desk lamp and various textbooks, the bright pink and yellow rental stickers visible on their spines. Jean's room was slightly messier than it usually was on their Skype calls but nothing he hadn't seen before with a few shirts laid out on the full bed and a pair of worn dark skinny jeans. The light grey walls had their usual collection of band posters but Marco noticed a bookcase that he rarely saw on their video feed. He was browsing the titles before he realized what he was doing, taking note at a few he wanted to check out for himself.

"Maman?" Jean called again, bringing Marco out of his reverie.

The sound of Jean's shower was coming from a pocket door usually out of frame is on the right side of the room. Marco rapped on it loudly.

"Come in!"

Marco slid the door open and walked into the small, humid bathroom, the walls covered in dark slate tile and soft singing coming from behind the dark red shower curtain. He snuck right up to the edge of the curtain, trying his hardest to stay as quiet as possible. 

"Maman?" Jean asked again, his voice cautious.

_'Every horror movie he's ever watched is probably playing in his head right now.'_

"Not exactly." Marco said, pitching his voice lower.

He couldn't help but cackle at the deafening squeal Jean let out, jerking open the shower curtain just enough to poke his pale face out, eyes wide. 

"That was mean," he pouted as he opened the shower curtain farther and stuck out an arm, reaching for the bottle. Marco let him take it, still laughing as Jean disappeared behind the curtain.

"Aw, no kiss?" 

Marco could hear Jean grumble before the curtain opened again, looking thoroughly unamused. He kissed Jean softly, and could see a small smile of his face when they parted. His own smile widened when he ruffled Jean's wet hair, spraying water everywhere. 

"Go back upstairs." Jean chuckled, looking at Marco with a quirked eyebrow. "Before I pull you in here."

Marco laughed, and leaned in for another kiss. "Hurry up, I'm hungry."

He made his way back upstairs, but not before stopping for another quick peak at the posters, as unrecognizable as they may have been. 

Opening the door at the top of the stairs, Marco found Marjory in the kitchen with another woman, presumably Jean's other mom. Peanut was snoozing on the paved patio outside, laying on the last patch of afternoon sun.

"Oh, you must be Marco!" She said, quickly coming around the island and shaking his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you..." Marco didn't know her name and let his sentence hang in the air like a question.

"Annette." She supplied, smiling brightly at him. She was tall, probably only an inch shorter than her son, with flowing blonde hair that was darker at the roots. " Please sit. Jean's told us a lot about you."

"Sasha and Connie too." Added Marjory wryly as they sat at the large wooden table, placing a glass of water in front of Marco. 

"Thank you." He said gratefully, taking a few gulps. "Nothing bad I hope." 

Annette chuckled, "With those freckles, I doubt I'd believe it if they  _had_  said something bad."

She asked Marco about the drive, which he described almost exactly as he had to Marjory minutes before.

_'It must be a mom thing.'_

Jean eventually joined them, clad in a black Ac/DC t-shirt and the dark wash jeans, his hair still damp from the shower. 

"Its not the deepest tattoo ever, to be honest. My mom likes geometric designs and my dad and I like hiking together, and I had really wanted a tattoo so... uh, yeah." Marco explained, as he felt Jean lean his crossed arms on the back of Marco's chair, the smell of his soap flooding his senses.

Marjory had been asking Marco about his tattoo, clearly visible below the now rolled up sleeves of his plaid overshirt. 

Jean had said his moms were cool with tattoos but he still wanted to make a good first impression. That plan was quickly nixed when Annette had asked, "So what's this tattoo Jean keeps going on about?" 

Red faced and suddenly shy, Marco had removed his button down and let them look at the tree sleeve on his right arm as well as the black band on his left forearm, clad only in a black ribbed tank top.

"That is so cool." Had been Annette's awed response, before she began asking questions about the parlor he had gotten it done at, how his parents felt about it, and all that. He had put his shirt back on but felt less hot now with the sleeves rolled up.

"Are we ready to go?" He asked, his hand gently laying on Marco's shoulder.

"Yeah." He squeaked, not expecting his face to be so close to his neck.

"We've never tried this Brazilian place." Annette said as they headed towards the front of the house, Marjory and her picking up purses and car keys and turning off lights as they went along. "But Sasha says it's good so I'll trust her judgement."

The living room was bathed in a golden light from the front window giving the already cozy looking room, all dark wood and plush furniture, a warm glow.

Marco couldn't help but notice the way those Jean's hugged Jean's slim legs, and cute ass, as he scrambled to put on his scuffed converse near the front door.

After a few minutes of fiddling with the radio, and even after some counter arguments from Jean and Annette, Marjory decides to just stick with the local Top 40 station. "Driver picks the music-"

"Shotgun shuts his cake hole." Jean and Annette chorused, the entire car bursting into laughter at the perfect reference.

Despite his normal taste in music, more rock and roll then reggaeton, he can't help bit song along to a catchy Pitbull song that fills the car not a minute later.

He stops mid-lyric during the first verse when he notices Jean looking at him,  eyes wide and mouth agape in slight shock.

"What?"

"I didn't know you knew Spanish."

Marco laughed, "I'm surprised you hadn't picked up on it yet."

"I thought it was just a Florida accent..." Jean mumbled, pink blooming over his cheeks. Factor in the pout and Marco smiled at the near overload of adorable. And a bit of arousal?

"Sasha's accent is similar, though not the same." Annette chimed in, looking at them through the rear view mirror. 

"That probably why you didn't notice." Marjory added, adding her reflection to the mirror as well.  Her and Annette grinned at each other and settled back, hands interlaced atop the gear shift.

"My accent's gotten much better since I moved and because I mostly speak it at home instead of like, all the time." Marco chuckled, "To me, all of you have accents. Though I hadn't really noticed Sasha's to be honest."

"She's lived up here longer." Jean said, then added more quietly, "People used to pick on her at school."

"I know that feeling." Marco couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. At least he had been a big 16 year old, already hip deep in puberty, and could defend himself easily with words.

_'And fists when it came to it.'_

"As I recall, her learning English was how you two met in kindergarten," interjected Annette.

"Imagine," added Marjory, with a smirk that was so like her son's (or was it the other way around?), "getting called in because your son was fighting first graders before the first week of school had ended!"

"So Jean's been protective since he was little, huh?" Marco couldn't keep the smile of his face and bumped shoulders with Jean, who had been growing redder by the second.

"As protective a chubby four year old can be," Marjory said wryly, glancing back at him through the rear view once more.

"I wasn't  _that_ chubby," Jean sputtered.

"You were the chubbier little thing!" Crooned Annette, "Here, I have pictures."

"Oh no, not the baby pictures," Jean moaned, letting his head fall into his hands.

Marco takes the phone, looking at a Pic Stitch from an Instgram post hashtagged 'TBT' of just Jean as a very round, exceedingly cute toddler. "As, you were so cute! What happened?" 

"Ha ha." Was Jean's dry response, a broad smile on his face as he shook his head at Marco's antics.

Annette sighed, almost wistfully, "The grump took over and my cutie-patootie went dark side and angsty."

"The gimp is strong in this one."

Even Jean joined in laughing at Marco's perfect reference. 

The car went comfortably quiet again, the radio spewing a commercial for either laser hair removal or hair implants, Marco didn't really catch which.

Jean took out his phone at one point and was texting out a message one handed before handing the phone to Marco expectantly.  
  


**"We don't have to go to the movies after dinner."**

Marco look up at Jean just in time to catch him biting at his lip ring. 

_'Whats he nervous about?'  
  
_

Marco typed out his response, deleting the crazy autocorrects produced by his clumsy thumb.

_**"Wat did u have in mind"  
**_ __

Jean's ears grew a bit pink as he typed, tilting the phone at him when he was done.

**"I just really want to put my hands all over you."  
**

Marco bit his lip, thanking god it wasn't just him acting like a horny teenager. He couldn't help but chuckle as he typed.

**_"U have 2  buy me dinner 1st :p"  
  
_**

Jean groaned at the lame response but that just made Marco giggle harder. 

_'I'm fucking hilarious.'_

**"Does that mean you want to mess around?"  
**

Jean looked surprised at how fast Marco tapped out his response, grinning mischievously when he was done. reading.

**_"Fuck yes"_ **

  
Dinner went by quick, with easy conversation and delicious food. Annette and Marjory were easy to talk to, asking about his family and even his move to a small town like Jinae from Miami halfway through high school. The only thing that kept him on edge was Jean's hand, gently resting on his thigh, and keeping Marco hyper-aware of it's location the entire meal.

When they returned to the house to grab their own car, Marco insisted on driving his Mazda hatchback in an attempt to keep himself occupied and not jump Jean 's bones right there in his driveway.

"Have fun at the movies!" Annette called from the doorway.

"But not too much fun!" Added Marjory, cracking up as she waved them off with one hand, the other laced in her wife's. 

 

* * *

"Marco, were not going to the movies."

"No. We're not."

"Were going somewhere we can be alone right?"

"Yes. Yes we are."

Jean shifted in his seat and leaned over the armrests, his breath hot against Marco's ear, "Good because I don't think I could have waited another second."

Jean's hand ghosted over Marco's forearm, goosebumps left in the wake of his feather-light touch. "Go straight on this road until you see a Billboard for a Holiday Inn, slow down and take the dirt road just before you hit it."

"Wow, so you regularly hook up with people in the middle of nowhere?"

Jean chuckled, "just one guy. He didn't want to be seen so I couldn't make out in a parking lot or dark theater like any other highschooler."

Jean's hand moved to the back of Marco's neck, tracing idle swirls on the soft skin before moving lower over Marco's torso, slowly sliding down his abs and palming his groin, just barely putting any pressure.

"Fuck, Jean..."

Marco turned his head, searching for Jean's lips, his neck, anything at that point. 

Jean's hand left its perch atop the bulge between Marco's legs, taking his chin and forcing him to face forward.

"Keep your eyes on the road." He practically growled, despite wanting more than ever to stop the damn car on the side of the road if he had to. 

Pressing light kisses to Marco's jaw and neck, Jean let go of Marco's chin. After biting Marco's earlobe lightly, his teeth eliciting a small groan of frustration, Jean sat back and started scrolling through the docked iPod.

Marco scoffed, reaching between his legs to rearrange himself into a less uncomfortable position. " _Maleducado_." Marco muttered, the billboard for the Holiday Inn coming into view. 

"What does that mean?"

"It means, Jean Elizabeth Keirschtein, you are  _so_  rude."

Jean laughed, looking up from his scrolling to find Marco smiling, his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel the only indication of his frustration.

"It's the little things, babe."

"We are literally going to hook up, in my car, in the middle of  _nowhere_  and you are concerned with the soundtrack to our sexual escapades."

"You'll thank me when the mood isn't ruined by T-Swift crooning about her on of her ex boyfriend. Dude, you're musical taste is so eclectic like- Oh,  _yes_."

Marco glanced over at him, "I take it you found something good?"

"Mhmm." Was all Jean said, plugging the iPod back in and shifting in his seat so he could run his fingers through Marco's hair, the radio crackling out traffic reports.

Marco leaned into the touch, focusing on the final turn to the secluded spot he had in mind. It was off the main road, mostly clear of debris and hidden behind overgrown brush and trees. 

He barely managed to put the car in park before grabbing Jean's face and pulling him into a kiss. Their lips moved against each other with vigor, tongues twining. Jean moaned as Marco ran his fingers through his hair, gripping hard at the strands as he pulled their heads apart, panting, "That was for before." 

Jean chuckled, running his thumb across Marco's cheek and over his lips, settling on his jaw and gently cradling Marco's face. He pressed a soft kiss to Marco's lips, tame compared to their last and blindly tapped the play button, the intro to The Arctic Monkey's ' _Do I Want to Know_ ' bumping softly from the speakers.

Marco closed his eyes and let out a soft groan, resting his forehead against Jean's.

"God, this is a good album."

Jean chuckled, leaning up to kiss Marco's forehead.

"Aren't you hot in that shirt?"

It was Marco's turn to chuckle, grabbing the back of the collar of his plaid shirt and pulling it, and the undershirt, over his head. He got tangled in the long sleeves and accidentally bumped the car horn with his elbow.

Jean couldn't help but laugh as Marco's face reappeared, a little redder than before. "Maybe we should move to the back?"

Marco nodded a meekly and scrambled into the back seat, settling in the middle with a small "oof." He began shucking of his shoes, tossing them to a corner and out of the way.

Jean leaned over, gripping the bar underneath the drivers seat and pushed it as far forward as it could go. He did the same to his own seat and took off his shoes before moving to the back seat as well, careful with Marco's long legs. 

Marco watched Jean clamber over, his hands itching to grab onto the skinny boy in front of him.

Jean straddled Marco's lap, lightly grinding into Marco's hard on with his own. Marco's hands were sliding up underneath Jean's t-shirt, long fingers caressing his lower back and making him arch in response.

Marco captured Jean's lips with his, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and resting his hands on Jean's ass. 

As quick as he could Jean shrugged his shirt off and tossed it away.

He kissed Marco again, both a little breathless. Jean bit Marco's lower lip, grazing his teeth against it a little more roughly than he normally would have, a low groan from Marco letting him know he was on the right track. Jean moved his head down and began mouthing along Marco's jaw, his head tilted for better access. When he got to the spot just below and behind Marco's ear, he gave an experimental nibble and was surprised, and turned on, at how Marco gasped and his grip on Jean tightened. 

"You like it when I bite you?" Jean asked, his voice low and rough. He ran the top row of his teeth down to the base of Marco's neck, finishing with a wet kiss.

"Ah, fuck. Yeah."

Marco's hand was in his hair, forcing Jean's head back as Marco kissed his neck, moving down to his collar and then his chest, flicking his tongue against a hard nipple. Jean ground into Marco when he bit the sensitive skin, groaning at the sensation of his tongue and teeth on him. He held onto Marco's shoulders, his nails leaving small imprints, as he rucked himself against Marco's jeans, Marco's hands gripping his ass tight and low, forcing his legs farther apart and sending shivers up his spine. 

Jean pushed himself away and kissed Marco hard on the mouth, leaving them both breathless. He shimmied to the floor, kissing his way down Marco's chest, making sure to nip at the hard muscle next to his hip.

Marco's fingers remained threaded in Jean's hair, twitching whenever Jean kissed a particularly sensitive spot. He couldn't help but roll his hips up when Jean's hands began undoing the button and fly of his jeans. He let out a sigh when the pressure against his dick lessened. Jean tugged at the fabric and Marco arched his hips upward, giving him room to slide both pants and boxers down his thighs and off him completely. 

Jean nibbled at Marco's inner thigh and watched as Marco's erection twitched.

"Ah, Jean. Stop teasing." Marco's eyes were heavy lidded, and the way he licked his lips made Jean want to palm himself through his own jeans. He settled for running his tongue down the cleave of the V by his hip, stopping just short of the dark hair at the base of Marco's cock. He palmed it lightly before giving a short lick to the bottom of the head. The hand in his hair gripped harder as Jean took Marco in his mouth, his lips sliding down halfway, tongue swirling.

"Jean. Oh shit." Marco tried hard to keep his hips from bucking against Jean's throat, the pleasure making his jaw slack. Jean hollowed his cheeks, sucking along the entire shaft to the very tip and running is tongue along the slit at the end before sliding back down and taking Marco nearly to the hilt.

He gripped Jean's shoulder as he started bobbing his head, the ring in Jean's lip running back and forth along the underside of his erection making him gasp. Jean gripped the base of Marco's cock and pumped to the same pace, making up for what his mouth couldn't take. He hummed along to whatever melody he could pick up, pushing Marco to the brink of his self control. 

"I'm not going to last if you do tha-ahh!"

Jean rubbed himself through his jeans and he moaned as Marco's cock hit the back of his throat, swallowing to get all the way to the base, before coming away gasping. He went down to the hilt again a few times but Marco's moans and the way his nails left red scores on Jean's shoulder blades were making it difficult to resist his own need.

Marco took hold of Jean's upper arms, pulling him up against his chest. Their lips crashed and Marco quickly sought out Jean's tongue with his own, tasting the salt of his own precum. 

He reached down to rub at Jean's neglected erection through the fabric with one hand as he undid them with the other. Jean tipped over, sitting with his legs draped over Marco's lap and yanked off his remaining clothes.

Marco hitched up Jean's leg so his knee was cradled in the crook of Marco's elbow. He kissed up Jean's thigh and he raked his nails lightly over the soft skin of the other. Jean fell back, resting his weight on an elbow as Marco's hand came to lightly grip Jean's erection.

Jean groaned as Marco licked a thick stripe up his cock, keeping his eyes on Jean's as he made his way up. Jean gasped Marco's name when he ran his tongue down the slit, already leaking precum. 

"Ahh, fuck." Jean moaned as Marco took Jean deep in one go. Marco moaned and the vibrations against his cock put Jean closer to the edge. He was about to say as much when cold air replaced Marco's wet mouth.

"Hey!"

Marco chuckled as he hitched Jean's leg a little higher and perched it on his shoulder, biting the tender flesh of his inner thigh. He kissed the spot and kissed up his leg, pushing him apart as he licked experimentally at Jean's entrance.

Jean keened and visibly shuddered, hand reaching to dig into Marco's hair.

" 'S that okay?" Marco asked.

"Fuck yes." Jean growled, nudging Marco's head back.

Marco spread him wider and circled his tongue around Jean's entrance. He reached up with his other hand to pump Jean's erection in long slow strokes. Jean's legs began to shake again, his breathing becoming more and more ragged. Marco alternated his pumps with pressing his tongue against the little ring of muscle, dissolving Jean into a puddle of gasps and moans. He could feel his own arousal increasing and knew Jean wouldn't last long at this pace.

He gave one last lick before disengaging Jean's leg, Marco's tongue leaving a hot trail up the coarse hair underneath Jean's belly button, the flat expanse of his stomach.

Marco chuckled against his mouth as he grabbed Jean's hips, thumbs digging into the inner hollows and dragging him lower on the seat. He scooted closer to him and gripped both their erections in his large hand. Leaning forward, Marco rested his weight on a single arm as he thrust his hips forward, the friction of his hand and around both their cocks making him moan loudly.

Jean's pupils were blown wide and there was drool collected at the corner of his mouth when he craned his neck to kiss Marco sloppily.

"God you're fun to kiss." Marco said, pumping his hand just a bit faster.

"Is that a Fitzgerald quote I hear?" Jean said somewhere between a chuckle and a gasp, running his hands across Marco's shoulders and down his sides.

Marco's already flushed face became redder, "I saw 'Tender is the Night' on your shelf so I-hng!"

He gasped as Jean added both his hands around their cocks and began thrusting his hips upward, his head hitting the seat hard as his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of their cocks rubbing against each other.

"Ahh, Jean." Marco groaned, thrusting into their hands, his head tipping forward. "Fuck, I'm close."

"Me too." Jean tightened his grip as his thrusts became erratic. Marco was breathing hard and biting his lip and he leaned lower, hips bucking harder and faster. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna-"

"Come for me, baby." Jean growled, raking his teeth against Marco's jaw as the coil in his stomach finally let loose and he came. Marco wasn't far behind, cum spurting from their cocks onto Jean's stomach.

They stayed like that, catching their breath for a moment.

"I'll be right back." Marco said, leaning down to capture Jean's lips. "Don't move."

"Hmm. I don't think I can." Jean responded, eyes heavy lidded and smirk particularly lopsided in the afterglow of his orgasm. 

Marco clambered off of Jean and nearly tumbled out of the back seat and into the grass, cackling at his own clumsiness.

"You okay there, babe?" Jean asked, folding an arm under his head and completely serious about not moving. That was the best orgasm he's had in a while.

"Yeah, yeah." Marco called, opening the hatch of the trunk and rummaging around for a towel to clean themselves off with. His legs were still tingling from coming so hard. 

He came around to the back seat again, glad to find Jean still sprawled and looking particularly hot in his post orgasm glow.

Gently, Marco wiped at his stomach as Jean squinted open his eyes and lazily ran his fingers up and down Marco's hard abs. 

"Stop that." Marco sighed, balling up the towel and tossing it into the trunk.

Jean opened his eyes wider and chuckled, "Why? You ticklish?"

"No actually," Marco said, leaning over. His face was inches away from Jean's and he could see each and every one of the freckles covering his tan face.

"Boo." Was Jean's response before Marco reached down to wipe at the corner of his mouth, dragging his lower lip down. Marco's finger came away white and Jean nearly got half hard when he sucked the little dribble of come off his thumb. 

Jean wrapped his arm around Marco's neck and pulled his down, lips mashing against each other. When they separated, Marco had a goofy grin plastered on his face.

"What?" Jean asked, running his hand down the inked lines of Marco's arm. He didn't want to stop touching him. 

"That was pretty great, huh?"

Jean couldn't help but smile. "You're such a dork."

"Yeah, but I'm you're dork." Marco replied, tossing Jean his jeans before searching for his own.

"Let's stay for a bit." Jean pouted, struggling to wiggle back into his skinny jeans.

"Definitely." Marco leaned in for a tender kiss, having an easier time with his own pants. He sat back and pulled Jean into the space between his splayed legs. Jean snuggled back into him, head resting on his chest and legs draped over one of Marco's, resting on the rest of the bench seat. Marco's arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from falling as Jean's fingers traced the inked lines unconsciously.

He could just see the iPod screen as the last song on the album began playing.

"I don't know what worse, that we managed to go through an entire album or that we only went through it once."

Jean could feel Marco's chest shake as he chuckled, "Who's the dork now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it!  
> I'm going to seriously try to update this thing more often like, at least once a month? idk it depends on my new schedule...  
> remember to [let me know](rubble-and-stardust.tumblr.com) if you guys hated it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I have a couple more ideas for this AU so I might continue this, but I doubt any other chapter will be this long...
> 
> If you catch any spelling/grammar errors, please let me know! I'm uploading this at 2am and a little cross-eyed tbh.


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